Anything for a Heart
by Josie Audriguez
Summary: England's a lonely scientist. America is his creation. England falls in love with him, but thanks to idiot France, America only has negative emotions like hatred and fear. England becomes an alcoholic and abuses America. Longer summary inside. USxUK
1. Because Glasses Are Cuter

**Summary: _England's a lonely scientist. America is his creation. England falls in love with him, but thanks to idiot France, America only has negative emotions like hatred and fear. England becomes an alcoholic to try and get rid of his pain from not being able to have America return his feeling, and in his drunken states, he often abuses America, scarring not only his body, but his mind as well. In desperation and fear for his life, America traces down the person who gave him the virus. When he find him, France makes a deal with him. He'll give America all of the emotions a regular human has, as long as America is his lover. He accepts. _**

**_What will England do once he finds out?_**

**_Will he ever have a chance to be with America?_**

**_Will he delete America, thinking if he can't have him, then sure as birds fly and snakes slither that Frog-face can't have him?_**

**_Horrible summary...I know...  
_**

**so yeah...GOTTEN INTO HETALIA A TON MORE THAN I WAS O3O...i blame USUK fer that...darn, they're so cute ¬/w/¬...so yeah this fanfic jus started typin itself one day, it's kinda loosely based on Rin/Len Kagamine's 'Kokoro' and also 'The Little Mermaid'...kinda...but URGH, SUCH A TITLE FAIL ;W; so uhm yeah...uhh..I'll try updating 100 themes challenge sometime next week, or the week after. Probably the week after, right now, I'm a lil stressed out cuz of a book report project due next wednesday, a Spanish project due next wednesday ((or was it friday?)) and then right now, we have this project fer science where you have to take like a baby doll home, and care for it. Thankfully, all it does is cry, but it cries like every hour, and I've lost a heck of a lot of sleep ((not that i mind really, i slept well enough last night, and i got to read fanfiction at 1 IN THE MORNING~ AND I DIDN'T GET INTO ANY TROUBLE~)) so yeah...2 more days to go...lol, I named the lil guy Iggy Jr. ...dun ask y it was the 1st one that popped into my head ;w;**

**so yeah, enough of my rambling and such, i bet yew wanna read the story now huh? mkay den, go ahead and read it, er yew can read the disclaimer if yew want((it's at the bottom this time, it was too long to put up here...it's quite amusing if i do say so myself~))  
**

* * *

"Almost done...just have to add one more thing...Ok, starting up the program now..."

"_Download Completion: Fifty-Three Percent. Viruses: None. Complications: None. Learning Capability: Quick Learner. Emotional Understanding: Normal. Download Completion: Eighty-One Percent."_

"Excellent! He's almost done now..."

"_Download Completion: Ninety-four Percent. WARNING: Virus Detected. WARNING: Virus Detected. Complications: Many. Learning Capability: None. Emotional Understanding: None."_

"WHAT? No! Not now! That french idiot! It must have been him! Darn him to...Argh, how do I fix it?"

"_Download Completion: Ninety-eight Percent. WARNING: Virus Detected. WARNING: Virus Detected. Complications: Many. Learning Capability: None. Emotional Understanding: None."_

_"_NO! I WON'T LET IT HAPPEN! ...AHA! I think i found it! Ok, all I have to do is...YES!"

_"Download Completion: Ninety-Nine Percent. Viruses: None. Complications: None. Learning Capability: Quick Learner. Emotional Understanding: Dense. Personality: HC."_

"Dense...? Well...that's not _too_ bad..he's a quick learner, I bet he'll learn his emotions in a week. Personality...Well...it's better than nothing I guess...I just wonder was the HC stands for..."

"_Download Completion: One Hundred Percent. Initiating Awakening."_

"Ah! Wait, he needs these!"

* * *

England beamed as he managed to put the glasses on just in time. He couldn't have his prized possession waking up to a blurry world. He wanted to make sure that his first memories were crystal clear. Why he didn't give him twenty-twenty vision? ...Well...Glasses are cuter...and...

"Why is Master red?" a semi-robotic voice asked. England started, then calmed down when he realized who it was. "Ahh...Am I now? That's strange...anyways! Happy birthday, America! I see that your vocal chords need a little more work, can't have you sounding like that now can we? Tell me, how do you feel?" America took a moment to think and replied, "Strange. Everything is so bright and colorful, there are so many sounds too. It's cold though, as if it was snowing. Master, do all humans feel this way?"

England started to nod, but then shook his head. America seemed confused, so he elaborated, "Well, a human does see and hear everything you can, but they usually feel warm. After all, their core body temperature is-"

A series of words flashed through America's eyes for a millisecond before he said, "98.6º Fahrenheit."

"-Ninety-eight...Er, correct," England coughed, trying not to be outsmarted by his creation. For a second, he thought that America had smirked, but it was gone so quickly that it might as well have been his imagination. "So...America, I know this may be weird since you aren't technically human, but are you hungry? I could cook you something if you'd like..."

America tilted his head to the side and stared up at England with inquisitive eyes. England stared back at him, then finally got the unasked question.

"Oh! Right, you just woke up, you don't know what hunger is. Uhmm...oh! Is your stomach making weird sounds? Like a gurgling, or a grumbling, maybe even a roar?" England asked, poking America's stomach teasingly. America jumped on contact, jerking up so quickly that it knocked the chair over, and promptly delivered a beautiful left hook to England's jaw.

"ORF!" England shouted, flying across the lab and landing against the wall. He spit out some blood from his mouth, and shakily got up, glaring daggers at America. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF BUSBY WAS THAT!"

America stared blankly at England, not even looking like he understood how angry the Brit was. "You programed that into me, it's under the 'Self-Defense File'. I believe that you may have programmed it a little too strongly. I might need some desensitization later on, but I will try not punch as strongly next time. Oh, and to answer your question, My stomach has yet to make a strange noise, but it aches and feels empty. Tell me, what does that mean, Master?"

England rubbed his now sore cheek and briskly stalked past America spitting out, "You're hungry. I'll go make you some food, Stupid American Git!" America watched him leave with the same blank stare, then looked up at the ceiling and thought, '_Did I do something to upset Master? I wonder what humans do when they try to comfort people who are upset..._' America picked up his chair and sat back down in it, then closed his eyes and sorted through all the files in his head with information on human tendencies and customs in them. He found something under 'Comforting'.

"To comfort a lover, one should hug or kiss them and tell them how beautiful and/or handsome they are. To comfort a friend, show them that you care by giving them a hug and consoling them with whatever they are upset with. If one is the cause of their distress, try to make up for it by apologizing," America read aloud. He made a 'hmm' noise, and tried to think of which one he should do.

'_Hmmm...should I act as a lover, or a friend? Maybe I should ask Master...No, he'll yell at me. I wish I knew what that emotion was called, it was kind of funny to watch...Hmm...Well, a lover supposedly flushes when in contact with their partner, and Master was red. I guess I should comfort him as a lover then?_'

America shrugged, if Master yelled at him for comforting him wrong, at least he could watch him become all flustered. The smirk that he had made before came back, this time sticking around until he heard the door slam open and he turned around to see England storm in carrying a tray of...of...of...

"Here, I brought you food, now eat it before I change my mind and make you go without supper as punishment for punching me."

America stared at it, then wrinkled his nose when the odor passed through his nostrils. His computerized brain searched for images and definitions of food, but none of them matched up with the abomination that was currently invading his nose. He took the plate from England and bit it, then immediately looked up at him and asked, "Master, I haven't eaten anything yet, but this isn't what humans would call 'delicious' ...or 'food' for that matter...right...?"

England looked downright offended, then indignantly shouted, "OF COURSE IT'S FOOD! Is your skull so thick that you can't appreciate the wonderful taste of my cooking? Maybe all Americans are hopeless gits like you...no, that would be an insult to Americans. I don't think you understand that insulting your Master's cooking _right after_ you punched him is horrible. Why, I should just dismantle you right here, right now before I go off on you and- Did you just CHUCKLE!"

At one point, England's expressions had become so funny, America couldn't help but chuckle. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to do, since it only made his Master more...whatever he was. America still didn't know what kind of emotion his Master was making, but he was going to find out, and to do that apparently he needed to 'apologize and comfort'.

"I'm sorry Master, I'm still learning about things. Please accept my apology," America said, standing up and leaning down to place a chaste kiss on England's lips. As soon as America did, his brain automatically pulled out a file on kissing. He skimmed through it and did a few of the things he read. He stood flush against England, running a hand through his hair and down his back. Since he kissed England while he was about to scold him for chuckling, he had caught him with his mouth half open. Somewhere through his skimming, he had read about something called 'French Kissing'. He tried that out, flicking his tongue into England's mouth. England made a weird sound that he couldn't describe, it was something akin to a purr and a gasp. America thought that meant he didn't like it, so he stuck his tongue back into his mouth, but he didn't mind. It felt weird to have it in somebody else's anyway.

America wondered how long he was supposed to kiss somebody anyway. It had already been a good solid two minutes, and America was becoming...he didn't know the word for it. He stopped his apology kiss and looked down to England.

"Hey Master, what's that feeling called when you feel uninterested in something?" America asked, looking down at England. England just stared up at him, red as a tomato from his ears down to his neck. His mouth was opening and closing, much like a dieing fish, but he couldn't make a sound. Finally, after a few strange attempts at speaking, he finally stuttered out, "I-It's means...B-Bored. Y-You're b-bored a-and...H-HeyThePhone'sRingingBye!"

America watched as England promptly ran out of the room and couldn't help but wonder, '_...Did I mess up on something?'

* * *

_

**America: I'M THE HERO!**

**England: ...And that's disclaiming what exactly...?**

**America: Dunno, but you know it's true! **

**England: Git. Any roads, this is a fan made document that has absolutely no relations to the actual man-**

**America: Your boring the people. Say it like a hero: HEROES DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR WHAT THEY DIDN'T MAKE~ SO NEITHER DOES THIS LIL FELLA RIGHT HERE! *points to bambi* SHE OWNS NOTHING BUT THE PLOT SHE MADE IN HER HEAD~**

**England: YOU GIT. *slaps his head* YOU INTERRUPTED ME!**

**America: You were taking to long.**

**England: Oh was I-!**

**England and America: *bickerbickerbicker***

**so yeah, i hope yew enjoyed the first chapter~ R&R and America will let you touch Texas!  
**


	2. The Blush Just Won't Go Away

**i bet yew, this'll be one of those fanfics i update every week-every two weeks.**

**i'm jus that in love wiff it.**

**ANYWAYS~! not much to say**

**Reviews:**

**OtakuFever0627: Thank yew fer liking it~ Yew'll hafta wait and see~ ;33 Dunno when france might come in...i'd say maybe chapter 3 er four? somewhere along those chapters~**

**xNerve: Lol, idea's new to me too. It's strange...anyways, glad yew enjoy this~! Here's chapter 2~**

**Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Ownership. Does. Not. Compute. Hamburgers. For. All.  
**

* * *

England splashed water on his face in hopes of cooling down his burning face and neck area. It helped some, reducing the blush down to just his cheeks, but from there it stopped working. He dried his face off and walked up to his bed, falling onto it and burying his face in a pillow. His mind was racing with explanations for what had just happened.

"Ok...it's obvious America is a pervert no thanks to that virus the Frenchie put in him...No wait, I deleted it. Maybe he's a pervert by nature? No, I made sure he wasn't. ...Wait, he said I was red didn't he? Then...oh no..Maybe I indirectly made him think I'm his lover? That can't be good...I don't want that at all. I have to set him straight right now," England said, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind that insisted on contradicting his statement of not wanting America like that. He got up and cursed as he felt that his cheeks were still warm. He hoped that they would cool down by the time he made it to America.

He walked back to see America sitting in the same chair as he was before, it appeared as if he was deep in thought. His concentration was broken, though, as soon as he heard Engalnd's footsteps. He whipped around and ran up to England, tears in his eyes.

"Master, look, I don't know what I may have done to upset you, but please do not yell at me! I do not know what that emotion is called, but I don't like it. Although I somewhat enjoyed it the first time you displayed it, the second time...it made me feel...I don't know. It's...It makes me feel uncomfortable, anxious, nervous, and overall afraid. I do not know what this emotion I feel is called either, but it is unpleasant. So please, forgive me Master," America blurted out. The tears were overflowing now, and England wondered why. He couldn't ponder on it any longer though, seeing as America started to cling to him, sobbing. England hugged him, temporarily forgetting the reason why he had come down here, instead focusing on comforting the..._could_ he call him a boy? He wasn't human but...

"Shhh, shh, it's ok. The emotion I made earlier is called anger, I promise I'll try to never show it towards you ever again. The one you were feeling was fear, or maybe it was sadness, like the one your feeling now. Please, America, just be happy right now. Happiness is like...you can't help but smile and it feels like the world is a fun place and you can't wait for the next day. Can you do that for me? Can you be happy for me, please? I don't like seeing you cry..." England cooed, gently stroking America's hair. America's sobs died down to sniffles, and the sniffles died down to an occasional hiccup. England continued to hug him, until America slowly pulled away. His face was neutral, which surprised England.

"America? I thought I told you to be happy, why aren't you listening?" England asked, confused as to why America didn't seem to be at least content. America looked at him, and responded saying, "I do not understand what 'happy' is. Nothing in my emotion database has anything like that, is that normal?"

England furrowed his eyebrows (which were incredibly big, America noticed), and bit his lip. '_That's not right...Even if the virus wiped out any immediate relations of emotions to the names, it shouldn't have deleted the emotion itself...No but...I'm sure I got rid of it before it could cause damage like that...Just to be sure..._'

"America, go step on that platform over there," England ordered. America listened and stood on a little platform. England typed something into his computer, and a laser quickly ascended from it's place on the floor, and scanned America's body. A series of codes and numbers showed up on England's computer screen, which he read with the best of ease.

"Hmmm...well that's strange. Everything looks normal. Ahh...America, looks like we'll have to work hard teaching you how to be happy. In the meantime, I need to talk to you," England stated, remembering why he was down here. He stopped the scan and America walked back to the chair he sat in before. England pulled up his swivel chair and sat down it it, rolling towards America. He noticed that the plate with food was empty, and that made him smile.

"Master is happy?" America asked, noticing England's smile. England chuckled and nodded, looking to the floor trying to figure out how to start telling America that he couldn't kiss him like that. Ever. Again. '_Although it was quite nice..._'

England's eyes widened at how his thoughts strayed away once again, and mentally slapped himself for even thinking of that. He looked back up at America only to see him glaring at him. "America...? Why are you glaring at me?" England asked, shocked that he could see the hate in his eyes. America's eyes narrowed by a fraction of an inch and he said, "I just don't think it's fair that Master can feel all these emotions, and I cannot. Why can't I feel happiness? It's sounds like a wonderful emotion to feel, and yet only Master can feel it. I wish I could feel it as well. Master, I feel strange. I feel angry, like you did, and I feel like I want something extremely badly because you have it. Why? Why do I feel this way?"

England gulped. He vaguely remembered giving America insane strength...hopefully he wouldn't use it. America didn't seem _too_ angry but...He took a breath and said, "That's called jealousy. America...That's a very dangerous emotion. Please try not to feel it from now on. Jealousy causes relations to fall, it can make you blind to the world. So please, don't ever feel it ever again?" America's gaze seemed to soften, and he once again returned to his neutral expression.

"If that is what Master wishes, then I will do my best," he said. England smiled to say 'thank you'. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he cleared his throat and started going into a long lecture.

"America, you must never kiss me like you did earlier again. I don't know what I may have made you think, but that's something only lovers do. We are most certainly _not_ lovers. No matter what I do, do not think of us as lovers all right? I forbid you to ever let a thought like that pass through your mind until ok? Good," England said. It wasn't only after he finished his lecture, that he realized what he said towards the end. He sputtered, his face heating up once again, and he stuttered out, "N-Never mind! J-Just...I-It's late. We should go to bed...Y-Your room's across from mine...goodnight!"

England ran towards his room for the second time that day, the only difference being America chasing after him so that he could figure out where his room is. As soon as England threw himself through the door to his room, America stopped and turned to look at the other wall. He saw a door and opened it, walking into his room. it looked plain, not that he was complaining.

"At least it has a bed..."

America yawned and walked towards the bed, curling up under the covers. He laid his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes, entering Power Save Mode until the morning.

* * *

***yawns* I'm tired...oh, and I may er may not update next saturday *that's when ima tryta update it* cuz I'm gettin Pokémon Black and all my free time will be dedicated to that. I'll try to rip myself away from it long enough to write and give you guys something to read, but I can't promise. Oh, and CST's are coming up so yeah...**

**anyways, R&R's greatly appreciated! Flames help burn England's scones.  
**


	3. We're Eating Hockey Pucks for Breakfast?

**OMG IS THIS POSSIBLE? I ACTUALLY MADE GOOD ON MY PROMISE OF UPDATING THIS SATURDAY?**

**IT'S A MIRACLE! ;U;**

**but yeah...oh and guess what**

**I GOT MAH PUPPEH TODAY.**

**I SHATH NAME HIM GILBERT...**

**SINCE THAT IS THE NAME OF THE AWESOME HIMSELF...**

**and my friend told me to.**

**so yeah Reviews:**

**xNeve: thank yew~ I'm glad that I can right England well ;w; so yeah, here's chapter three~ :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own.  
**

* * *

America woke up to the smell of smoke. His common sense sensors instantly kicked him and told him that where there was smoke, there was fire. And fire wasn't a very good thing to have in a house. He darted towards the source of the smell and what he found….erm…he didn't know the name for that emotion either….

"Hey master, may I ask you two questions? One of them is regarding another emotion and the second one is why you're burning that hockey puck…" America asked. Said master jumped a good two feet in the air and pivoted around clutching his heart. When he saw America standing there with an extremely vague look of amusement, he stopped holding his breath and calmed down. He put his hands on his hips and promptly started to scold him.

"America! Don't surprise me like that! I very nearly had a heart attack, thank you very much. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm still making breakfast and─"

"You mean we're eating a hockey puck for breakfast?" America said, cutting him off. He didn't re-ask the other question, seeing as England had unintentionally answered it. England's eye twitched, and his cheeks burned with rage and embarrassment….How dare that American git make fun of his food again…!

"WHAT? THIS ISN'T A HOCKEY PUCK, IT'S A SCONE! THE RECIPE WAS PASSED DOWN TO ME BY MY MUMSY!" England shouted, running towards America intent on strangling the robot…person...android…whatever was the correct term for him. Unfortunately for England, he stepped on a broom that was not so conveniently placed on the floor. The broom slipped out from under his foot and England fell on the cold tile floor flat on his face. He let out a cry of pain, then groaned as he tried to re-focus his vision and get over his stunned state.

He slowly sat up, cradling his head. His nose hurt the worst, so he gingerly touched it, then took his fingers off as he felt even more pain than before. He could feel it bleeding and hoped that he didn't manage to break it. Suddenly, he heard laughter coming from above and looked up to see America making that noise, and smiling as he did so. For a brief moment, England hoped that maybe America had managed to experience happiness, but that hope was briefly crushed by what _type_ of laughter the American was making. A mocking laughter. The kind you laugh when you see the nerd from your school getting mortally humiliated.

"What the heck? I can't believe that not only are you a failure at cooking, but you can't even make it across the room without injuring yourself! Haha! What kind of a master are you?" America ridiculed, clutching his stomach from laughing too hard. His laughter abruptly stopped when he felt something sting his cheek. He turned to see England holding his nose, still red-faced with rage and tears pricking his eyes.

"Shut up! You have no right to mock me, nor my cooking! Here I was, trying to make you something to eat, but I guess you would rather run off of batteries, since you obviously don't want my cooking. Just like the robot you are. And you know what? Look at this," England said, breaking out into a wide grin. America's eyes narrowed, and England smirked, "_I _can feel joy. You can't for whatever reason. Or well, I should take that back. You can experience joy as well, but it's the kind of sick pleasure you get from watching other people suffer. That's not joy at all, that doesn't even have a name. I hope your proud. Now, just stay here and don't move. Or in fact, you can start to rot for all I care. I'm going to go fix my nose and...and I'm going to...I'm leaving!"

America watched England run out, but he could easily tell England was crying. All that laughter had disappeared, and was instead replaced by a heavy feeling. For some reason, he knew what it was. It was guilt. He didn't like it. It wasn't nice. He wanted it to disappear, he wanted to be able to take back what he'd said...

"_Mais hélas, you cannot._"

America jumped at the sound of a voice coming from inside his head. His first thoughts were that maybe it was a hacker, but none of his firewalls or securities sensed anything wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, and then the voice came back.

"_Do not be afraid, Mon Cher, this is in your programming, nothing to be suspicious about."_

Now America was irritated. Here was this voice, coming from inside his head, who he had no idea who it belonged to, and it was just making him feel even worse. What right did it have to take his wish, break it into a million pieces, and grind it in his face? He growled, and then tried to talk to it.

"Alright then, who/whatever you are. Since your in my programming, tell me, what am I feeling right now?" America asked, trying to make sure that the voice was a legit part of his system. He heard chuckling and it replied saying, "_You probably don't know the name, but you feel like taking back something you said or did. That's called regret, Mon Cher. I assume you already know that the other feeling you have is guilt, be happy I sent you that data a little while ago. I forgot that I accidentally deleted that emotion as well. Can't have that now can we?I also sent you some more info on other emotions, like how the next level of anger is fury or surprise shock, etc. etc._"

'_Ahh...so I'm feeling regret as well...I don't like it..._' America thought. He sighed, and sat down in a chair. Maybe he was going crazy, talking to some voice in his head. He felt Sadness crawling right next to Guilt and Regret, making itself comfortable. They were having a real party in him at the moment.

"_Don't be sad, Mon Cher. You Master is just a grumpy imbécile, nothing worth feeling guilt or regret towards. He said he was going to fix his nose, oui? He never finished saying what else he was going to do, for all you know he could be preparing to dismantle you, non? Go check and see what he's doing. Apologize while your at it, just to get on his good side, Amérique,_" the voice said, in a soothingly comfortable tone. America thought about the pros and cons of going, then decided he should, if at least to apologize. He remembered his manners that his Master had installed in him, and he said, "Erm...thank you...uhmm...whatever you are..."

"_No need to thank me, my dear Amérique. Just don't let what you may see shock you, and remember: I am always here for you, and someday we will meet. Adieu, ma chere~"_

America furrowed his eyebrows again, why did that voice have to keep speaking in a foreign language? He would need to install a foreign language pack sometime, but for now, he needed to go apologize to Master and beg he didn't dismantle him if what the voice said was right. He walked up to his door and heard England talking to...air? Maybe he was on the phone? His speech was slightly off...wait, did he just heat shattering glass...?

America gulped, he could feel that some fear decided to come along and join the party, but tried his best to keep it away. He slowly opened the door and what he was met with, thoroughly sur─No, it SHOCKED him. There England was, in the middle of the room, talking to thin air, barely wearing anything at all. America blinked, took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, cleaned his glasses, put them back on, blinked once more, and sure enough England was still there, wearing only an apron. He turned around, and gave America a goofy smile, "Why, hallooooo there, A-" he hiccuped, then giggled,"-merica~!"

* * *

_**~Thirty Minutes Earlier~

* * *

**_

England sat down on his bed, tending to his bloody nose. It hadn't been broken, but it hurt, really really bad. He cursed when he sneezed, as his gentlemanly instincts told him to cover his nose, which meant touching it and making it hurt were still streaming down his face, but they were slowly dying until they settled in the corners of his eyes.

"Bloody American git...Making me cry like that...I haven't cried for ages..." England grumbled, sniffing as he used his hand to wipe away whatever was left of the tears. When he was satisfied with treating his nose, he immediately strode over to a cabinet in his room. Pulling out a few bottles of rum, he opened up one and drank straight from the bottle. Manners were forgotten, along with the pain in his nose as he chugged down half the bottle in one gulp. He let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth, setting the bottle down on the table.

"Bloody nose? What bloody nose, my nose is just brilliant! Bloody Git's gunna get what's coming to him when I find him! Ahahaha!" England laughed out, swaying ever so slightly in his chair. He took another swig from his rum and laughing for no reason.

"England...? You sure you should be drinking right now? What if America catches you?"

England paused halfway from the bottle, and looked up to see a green bunny floating in the air. He smiled at it and said, "Flying Mint Bunny! I haven't seen you in ages!"

"You saw me yesterday..."

"That was too long ago, care for a drink?" England offered, holding up the rum bottle. Flying Mint Bunny stared at it and shook his head. Suddenly, a pixie flew out from behind a cupboard and stopped in front of England, hands on her dainty little hips.

"Arthur Kirkland! I thought I told you it was bad for you to drown any of your sorrows in liquor! Remember what happened last time?" she scolded. England spat out the rum that was in his mouth and glared up at her.

"I said to never mention that again! And I told you, I changed it to England. Now how about some more rum?" England said, drinking whatever was left in that bottle, plus half of the second one. By this time, a unicorn and another Pixie had joined the three. England smiled and laughed, getting drunker by the second. They sighed and shook their heads, but decided to let England keep drinking.

_Three Bottles of Rum and a Bottle of Whiskey Later..._

England laughed as he pet Uni's mane. He had gotten so drunk, that he could barely stand and the pixies has to keep him from falling, but they couldn't stop him from swaying. He had once again changed into his waiter outfit, his excuse being 'Buuuut it's tooooooooo hot! I'm sweating, and it's hot, and my jacket's not helping, and that's breezy, and it's hot, and I don't want to be all sweaty!'

Flying Mind Bunny was having a (somewhat) intelligent conversation with a completely inebriated England about the quality of rum these days. England talked about how they need to strengthen the glass bottles, throwing one against the wall to show how fragile they were. Suddenly, he heard the door creak open and turned to see the shocked face of his little pet. He took a moment to look at him, and noticed how adorable he had made him. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky, hair like golden waves of grain...heh, that one cowlick that defied gravity...If he could remember correctly, he made sure that cowlick was..._very_ sensitive to touch. Suddenly, a very strange and..._mischievous_ idea entered his mind.

"Why, hallooooo there, A-*hic*-merica~!" he greeted, flashing a charming (or so he thought, in truth, it was very silly) smile. He slowly made his way over there, stumbling half the way, and draped an arm around his shoulders. "Care for a drink M'boy?" he asked, holding up a newly fetched bottle. America seemed to cringe and asked, "Master...what exactly are you wearing...? And why do you smell so much like alcohol? Are you feeling alright...?"

"I'm jussssst dandy~! Have some rum! It's good for you!~" England said, completely ignoring the American's first two questions and holding the bottle closer to his face. America pushed it away, and started looking up thinks in his files to see if England was sick or anything. He searched 'alcohol', 'waiter outfits', and 'acting like a lunatic'. Eventually, he found out what was wrong with England. He was drunk.

"Master...you're drunk right...? Uhhh..I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing but I think you may need to get some rest...It says you'll have a big headache and you'll be extremely sensitive to light and sound...so if you rest now and wake up at night, or in the evening, then there wouldn't be as much light and sound as there is now..." America coaxed, a bit of a new emotion finding its way into him. He knew this was concern, and thought, '_Humm...I'll have to thank that voice again later..it looks like it updated my emotion database..._'

England pouted and stamped his foot saying, "I don't wanna go to *hic* bed!" America's face returned to it's neutral expression, and he sighed, picking up the drunken Brit and flopping him down onto his bed. He pulled the covers out from under England's body, and placed them on top of him. "Master, I read that the headache was very uncomfortable, and I already feel regret and guilt for mocking you earlier, I'm extremely sorry about that and I don't want to feel even guiltier knowing that I aided in you suffering from a horrible headache. I wish to at least minimize some of it..." he said, mixing his apology in there. England pouted some more, his hazy half-lidded eyes becoming even more clouded as he felt sleep start to creep up on him. The idea he had before came back, and he smirked.

"Fine...but you have to sleep with me! I don't like sleeping by myself!" England stated, a smirk making it's way into his features. America, unaware of England's intentions, said, "If that's what Master wishes, then I'll obey." He took off his shoes and made his way around the bed, getting into it and crawling under the covers. England's smirk grew, and he crawled over to America, straddling his hips. America looked up at him quizzically, and said, "Master, I told you that you needed to sleep. I do not believe that humans sleep like that. Please, sleep Master, I do not want you suffering from the headache during the day, it sounds awful and ─"

England didn't let America finish his sentence. He leaned in and kissed him fiercely, although his intoxication made it more than a bit sloppy. He growled in displeasure when America pushed him off. He had a stern look in his eyes as he said, "Master! I thought you said that we weren't lovers!" England frowned and flicked the cowlick on America's head. He smirked when h saw America's face heat up and heard him squeak.

"I said not until I say so. And as of now. I. Say. We. Are," he said, giving the cowlick a little tug to accent the last words. He chuckled at how America's face became even redder and he covered his mouth to stop the strange sounds he made from escaping. England smirked, licking his lips and leaning in for another kiss, when he found himself pushed back down onto the bed. He looked up to see America on top of him, and smiled saying, "A little eager, aren't we?"

America frowned. He stared at England and said, "I-I do not know what you're implying, b-but I must insist that you sleep now Master...I-I'll sat here if you insist but...J-Just don't do that again." England scowled, his eyes drooping a little with the sleep America was telling him to get. Sighing, he gave up and said, "Alright, I'll sleep. You stay here though~ I don't like having to sleep alone." Seeing America's resolute expression he added, "And I promise~ I'll just sleep...so...goodnight..America..." England's head hit the pillow and he was out like a light. America sighed, then reluctantly crawled under the covers, staying as far away from England as the bed would let him.

'_Master was acting strange...first he says we're not lover then he says we are and...Why did him pulling my hair make me react that way...? I...I don't like it...I hope Master gets better soon...and hopefully his headache isn't that bad..._' America thought. He wiped his lips with his sleeve, trying to get the taste of rum off them. He didn't like that taste, it was far too strong for him. He sighed, the scooted a little farther away from the sleeping Brit. Slowly, he entered Power Save mode and hoped that England wasn't just pretending to be asleep, waiting for his chance to mess with the American again.

* * *

**R&R~! those make me happy! anyways, flames bad. Ima go now, I hafta make Gilbert at home! Bye~! **


	4. I've Had Enough Blushing!

_**Edit: Due to sumthin weird that happened Saturday, it wouldn't lemme update this ;w; So, yeah...sorry about it reallu late, i had it done Saturday but I couldn't update it...yeah...;w;**_

**I ACTUALLY AM UPDATING WEEKLY.**

**HOW COOL IS THAT?**

**Oh, and I got another puppy cuz my uncle had like...a million xD named her Flying Mint Bunny...then I jus shortened it to Mintie. So now I have Iggy and Mintie~ w So yeah, Angst. That's what this story has been so far. Lots of angst...kinda. I mean like, yeah. Hmmm...I wonder when I'll actually get to some fluff...er when I'll start makin Iggy abuse poor Alfie xD probably...chapters 5-7? Yeah...this is _hopefully_ going to be a long fic ;w; I asked my friend to pick a number between 10 and 20...she picked 16...that's the goal of chapters fer this fic...yeah...x33;;**

**In other news and stuff, France makes an appearance! ..Kinda! And yeah, this is more like a filler chapter...n stuff...well, i hope yew enjoy reading it~! and have a lovely spring break (if yer on it like me)**

**Reviews:**

**Artfan: puppies _are_ adorable~! w and yeah, here's France, kinda~ :D**

**tuesycakes: I love yew fer loving my story ;w; and i love yew even more fer making up 'lil french conscience' xD THAT MADE ME LAUGH X33 dun't worry, this story's gunna continue until my fingers get chopped off! (*quickly turns and faces Ivan* Please dun't cut off my fingers...)**

**xNeve: i like how it's developing as well xD i have like, the basic story line and everything, it's jus the writing the chapters and stuff and urgh, i can't believe i can keep up the speed that i write and the "quality" (if there even is any ;w;) DUN'T WORRY! AMERICA SHATH GET HIS EMOTIONS! ...eventually...in the later chapters...OTL**

**Otakufever0627: THEY STILL ARE? *does the dance of joy* I'M NOT A FAIL. I SO HAPPY. ;W; Well, this may not be much of a development, but it's something!~ so yeah..this is like what happens in-between 'now' and 'next'...xD''  
**

**Disclaimer: The day I own this is the day Iggy cooks, Alfie stops eating McDonald's, Mattie loses the bear, and France stops being such a pervert WITHOUT forcibly giving Iggy the title so that he can focus on farming.  
**

* * *

America looked around. He was in a dark room; it was empty except for couple of seats and a coffee table between them. He saw some wine resting next to two plates of _actual_ food, not the hockey pucks that England dared to call food. He heard his stomach grumble, so he walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, helping himself to a plate of food.

"Ohonhonhon~ Eating without me, Mon Cher? I thought that British grump would have taught you proper manners by now, my dear Amérique," a voice said. America's head jerked up, he knew that voice! He looked around until he saw a man, with shoulder length wavy blonde hair, stubble growing on his chin. Like him, the man had blue eyes, but his were softer. The man went over and sat down on one of the seats, picking up his glass of wine and taking a sip. America stared at him, and asked, "So….are you like some kind of weird little subconscious in my mind?"

The man chuckled and shook his head. "Non," he replied, "I'm actually a person. Er well, in real life I am. Right now I'm just a little picture that your mind conjured up so I could talk to you face to face. So tell me, Mon Cher, how have you been?"

America took a moment to eat some food and get used to the idea of having the image of a complete stranger in his head. '_Hmm...I think these are called dreams...Am I even able to have a dream? I'll have to ask Master later..._' America thought. After he enjoyed his first taste of real food, he answered and said, "I believe everything is going alright. Master keeps getting flustered and it's funny to watch, but he says that the joy I get from him being in pain or anything is bad, so I'm not going to laugh at him anymore. He also tried to cook hockey pucks this morning, and ended up falling down. Master got mad at me for laughing...and then you started talking to me, or at least I believe it was you, seeing as you use the same language as before."

The man chuckled and said, "Yes, that was me. I was starting to miss you, Mon Cher. Now, please continue." America nodded and continued on with his day, "After that, I went up to check on Master. He was acting strange, but it says that's what happens when your drunk. I told Master to get some rest, but he wouldn't and then he started to act even stranger...he...did things..." He looked up to see the man's face drawn into a frown, but he nodded. America understood and continued, "I don't know what he did but...they made me feel weird...It was strange..I didn't like it but I wanted more...And then these strange sounds started to come out of my mouth so I covered it up...Then Master fell asleep."

The man's face was neutral, but America could see that right under that face, he was filled with rage. He started to fidget, when suddenly the man said, "Well, I'm going to leave you so you can rest up a bit. The longer I stay here, the more energy your battery uses up. Adeiu, my precious Amérique~!"

Everything went back to a normal Power Save Mode.

* * *

Midnight was greeted with a horrible groan of pain. The source of the sound was currently huddled in a pile of blankets, desperately trying to make the pitch black darkness around him even darker. Although he succeeded in doing that, it didn't help block out the snoring that was going on right next to him.

"Bloody noise is going to drive me insane. What's with the snoring anyways? If America snored I'm sure I wouldn't e able to hear it from here...Urgh...my aching bloody head is going to bloody explode..." England's accented voice groaned. He took a moment to let the pounding in his ears go down a tiny bit, but the snoring next to him was getting pretty bad. England groaned and turned to kick the body that was currently sleeping across the bed. "Oi, shut up. Your snoring is too loud..." The other body yelped and fell off the bed.

"Master! Why did you kick me off the bed?" America asked, looking at England. England groaned again and said, "Shut up, your bloody annoying voice is making my headache worse..." America listened, and sat back down on the floor. A few minutes of silence passed until England was able to think. '_Bloody America...Doesn't he know that sounds make hangovers worse? At least I woke up in the middle of the night...probably no thanks to his snoring...Being right next to me with that horrible sound didn't help. ...Wait...right next to me...? In a bed...? And I have a hangover...And I can feel a breeze...OH MY BLOODY FLUFFING, _BUSBY'S CHAIR, AMERICA!" England yelled, his inner thoughts turning into screaming. He whirled his head around, ignoring the nauseous feeling he got from doing so, and quickly checked to make sure said American had his clothes on.

England let out a sigh of relief when he saw that America did, but his relief was quickly replaced by the need to find the nearest toilet. "Ugh...I feel...Urgh!" was all England managed to say before he placed his hands over his mouth and ran to the bathroom. He threw open the toilet seat and proceeded to puke his guts out. America, worried by the choking sounds England made, ran over and started to rub his back in circles. He read that something like this would happen, so he just kept waiting until it passed.

After a few minutes, England's puking was reduced to coughs and then was further reduced to him just spitting. He wiped his mouth and America handed him a glass of water. England gratefully accepted it then took a few gulps, swishing the liquid around in his mouth before spitting it back into the sink. "Ugh, America, sorry for worrying you...By the way can you do me a favor? Go into the kitchen and open up the top left cupboard. Some medicine should be in there, grab it and bring it back here, please? My head is killing me," England ordered. America nodded and walks downstairs, eat step on the creaky stairs another pulse of pain in England's head. Despite that, he managed to get up and walk over to his wardrobe.

"I better change out of this ridiculous outfit while he's down there..." he muttered to himself. He slipped on a pair of pajama pants, then put on a white undershirt. He had just finished putting on some socks when America walked in with the medicine and another glass of water. "Here you are, Master," he said, setting it down to the nightstand. England nodded and put two pills in his mouth, gulping then down with water. Already he could feel the pain start to ease away, and he let out a content smile.

"Do you feel better now, Master?" America inquired. England nodded and sat down on his bed. "I'm pretty lucky I woke up when the sun wasn't out. Although...I usually wake up in the afternoon," he said. America took the empty lass of water down to the kitchen and came back up saying, "That's because I made you sleep early so that you would wake up when there is least light and sound. I didn't want you to suffer through a headache..."

England's eyes widened a tiny bit. '_America actually cared about my well-being...? That's...That's so...sweet and human-like..' _England thought. He was overjoyed at the thought of America FINALLY starting to display some positive emotions.

"...After all, that's what a hero would do!" America said. England smiled and looked up at America, but was displeased when he saw that his face was neutral again, and only after he realized this, did he hear America's monotone voice, not the caring one he imagined. He smiled again, this time laced with sadness, and he said, "That's nice of you America...look, it's pretty late. Why don't we go back to bed?" America nodded and England crawled back under the bed. He turned off the light and started drifting off into sleep, when he felt the bed indent. He snapped his eyes open and turned the light back on to see America sleeping next to him. England sputtered, and he felt his face heat up. "Bloody...Not again. I've had enough blushing for a week, thank you..." he grumbled. He cleared his throat and when he didn't get a response from America, he cleared it again. No response.

"Oh yeah, he can't sleep. He's in power save mode, no wonder he can't hear me...Bloody Brilliant of you, England. Making it so that he sleeps like the dead..." he said. He got out of the bed and walked over to America, then tried to lift him up...

...And epically failed.

Sighing, England tried again. And failed again. He repeated this several times until he was convinced it was no use. Grumbling, he grabbed a blanket and a pillow and headed for the couch in the living room, completely forgetting the bedroom America had. Right before he managed to get through the door though, he heard America say something.

"Mmmnn...Master..England...happy?"

England's face turned into an impossibly dark shade of head, and he hurried out of that room, a small smile gracing his features. '_Maybe he really is starting to care...That makes me glad...wait, why would it? I-It's just because...that means I successfully created something capable of emotions! Yes..that must be it!_' England thought.

Sadly, if he had lingered in there for just a while longer, he would have heard the next thing that escaped America's mouth:

"S-Stop...n-no don't pull...M-Master...why can't...I...happy..."

* * *

**...MORE ANGST? WHAT THE HECK? hurnghh...;w; i needa write some fluff..yeah anyways, **

**hey I was thinking.**

**Fanart is nice right?**

**Er...yeah, thi may be greedy buuuuut...anybody wanna draw some fanart of this story...? xD'' Yew dun't hafta..it's jus a lil suggestion...from a lil girl...who would like some...**

**ok yew dun't hafta make fanart..it was jus a lil thing that popped in my head.**

**ANYWAYS.**

**I HOPE YEW ENJOYED THIS~**

**AND ALL IT'S FILLER-Y ANGSTY NESS~! **

**R&R and if yew flame yew'll jus be making more light and making iggy's hangover worse than if yew jus gimme constructive critisism~!  
**


	5. Not In A Million Years!

**CHAPTER FIVE~ AND ON TIME~**

**AND I THANK MY FRIEND FER TELLING ME HOWTA GET RID OF THE UPDATING GLITCH. ;W;**

**I LOVE YEW FRIEND~ ;W;**

**anyways, no reviews seeing as...yeah...i couldn't update...and stuff...**

**Disclaimer: ...Yew've read this far and I've said I dun't own, yew think I own it now?  
**

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the stiffness in his back. England groaned and sat up, stretching in hope of getting rid of the soreness that he had acquired from sleeping on the couch. He yawned and scratched his head. The next thing he noticed, was the smell. It smelled like pancakes, bacon and eggs with...was that coffee? Getting off the couch, England made his way towards the kitchen to see a blonde person expertly flipping pancakes. In his still slightly groggy state, his first thoughts were that the French idiot had snuck into his house, but on closer inspection, he could see a cowlick sticking up.

Smiling slightly, England walked into the kitchen and mumbled out a lazy, "Good morning." He saw America jump slightly, before he turned to England with his ever present neutral expression. "Good morning, Master. Did you sleep well?"

"Erm...As well as a person can sleep while on the couch I guess. My back is awfully stiff though, but it will go away a little later. By the way, what are you doing?" England inquired. America moved out of the way to show England a fresh batch of pancakes on the counter, and bacon sizzling in their pan, "I'm making breakfast. When I awoke this morning, you weren't in your bed so I assumed that you had gotten up to make some, but when I saw you sleeping on the couch, I knew my assumption was incorrect. Seeing as it would be the obvious thing to do, I walked into the kitchen and proceeded to make a breakfast." What the American did next thoroughly surprised England. He was smiling. America was actually smiling! His eyes were closed and he was _smiling!_ England would have jumped for joy, but when America opened his eyes again, all the flaws England had overlooked hit him.

America was smiling, yes, but it looked so unnatural. There was no air of joy or cheerfulness, and the smile was also _too_ perfect. It was as if he was forcing it, or trying to imitate an expression he had seen in a book. '_He probably is..._' England thought. He felt a pang of sadness hit him and he turned to look away.

"A-America...please...don't smile if you don't mean it...It..It just doesn't seem right, England murmured out. "Hmmm? I'm sorry Master, I could not here you. What did you say?" America asked, putting all the food on two plates. He set them down on the table and started to eat, still looking waiting for an answer.

"Ahh...nothing nothing. I was just saying how nice it was of you to make breakfast...and smile..." England lied. America shrugged, and continued to inhale his breakfast. England merely picked at his food, too engrossed in his thoughts.

'_America's smile...It's too fake. He probably just learned how to smile for my sake...although that's really sweet of him I don't want him smiling unless he means it. ...No, even though it's fake I can pretend, can't I? I just have to imagine he's happy, pretend that he's not faking. Yeah, that's the spirit England! ...I'll just have to live with it,_' England was cut off from thinking anymore when he had a piece of bacon shoved into his face.

"What the...? America, any reason why you're holding up a piece of meat in my face?" England asked. America poked his cheek with the bacon, and continued that until England snatched it away. "Don't play with your food, it's not good," England reprimanded, eating the bacon.

"Well, you weren't eating so I was worried that you weren't feeling well. You didn't answer when I asked you a question, so I tried using food. A hero won't let their Master starve," America explained. England paused with another strip of bacon barely in his mouth. He most certainly did _not_ blush for the thousandth time that week as he turned to face a very interesting wall. His heart was most certainly _not _beating fast when he replied.

"I-I...W-Well...Th-That was swe─nice of you, A-America. I r-really...appreciate..it..." England managed to say. He started eating his food with a little more vigor than necessary, and then picked up the dirty plates. He started washing them, using a tiny bit more force. What a grand flustered mess he was.

America watched England with his ever present neutral face, then got up and peeked over his shoulder to see him clean the dishes. His breath ghosted across Engand's neck causing the other to shiver and jump away with a _very_ manly squeak.

"Wh-Wh-What're you doing?" England exclaimed, his voice a higher pitch than normal. America merely blinked and responded saying, "I was watching you clean. Master, why are you flushing again?" England's face got even darker and he squeaked out, "I-I'm NOT blushing! Y-You finish w-washing the dishes a-as p-punishment!"

America shrugged, then cleaned the dishes like he was told to, trying to keep a smirk from entering his face. '_Master told me that kind of joy was wrong..I shouldn't feel it...but it's entertaining to see Master so flushed...No! I should just clean the dishes..._' America thought, successfully keeping away the smirk. England had left by that time, only to go to the bathroom sink and splash water on his burning face.

* * *

A couple weeks had passed since America was 'born'. England was dumbfounded by the boy's appetite, he could go through a three course meal during breakfast. England soon found out that even his massive refrigerator and even bigger pantry had started to run empty. Today was the day that England's house ran out of food.

England let out a frustrated sigh and started to look around for America. He found him watching cartoons and rolled his eyes. That guy watches cartoons like he eats, it was kind of cute really, like a little kid. A loud crash came from the t.v and England flinched.

Cute as it may be, it was bloody annoying.

"Oi, America. We ran out of food, we're going to have to go to the store and buy some more," England called out. No response. Typical. He let out another sigh and walked up, grabbing America's ear and dragging him to the lab ignoring the boy's "ow's" and "owwie!'s". He finally released him when they entered the lab.

"What the heck, dude. That hurt!" America whined, rubbing his sore ear. England shook his head and said, "I told you that we were going to the store, but you were to busy with your bloody cartoon to hear me. Now, before we go, I want to fix your voice. It's irritating and I don't want anybody to know that your not exactly human, now go stand on the platform." America followed orders and stood on the platform that England used to run checks on him. England opened up a program on his computer and started typing in some complex commands. He clicked enter and turned to America. "Ok, I'm going to start tuning your voice, just say 'Ahhhh' while I do, savvy?"

"Ahhhhhhh."

England started to tune America until his voice sounded like any other person's. When he was satisfied, he nodded and told America that he could stop. He finished up, turned off his computer, and walked to the door, America close behind.

* * *

"So this is a store, huh?" America said, looking around at all the food items. His stomach let out a growl, and England shook his head. "You can't go five minutes without something to eat, can you?" he asked sarcastically. America shrugged, and England put a little of everything in the cart. America tried to help too, but ended up putting a lot of lunchables in it, which England scolded him for and told him to put them back. After England was satisfied he had enough food for at least a week, he walked to the cash registers, only to see that the only available ones were those bloody automated registers. How he hated them.

Still, he trudged to them and started to scan his items, having to scan a few more than once on many occasions. When he saw the price of everything, he could already feel his wallet getting lighter.

Oh, how he'll have to get rid of the git's appetite.

After paying with a credit card (seeing as he didn't have enough cash on hand), he made America carry all the groceries as revenge for making him spend so much money. They got to England's car and dumped everything into the trunk, then piled into the car and started driving home.

America stared out the window looking bored, until a peculiar scent passed by his nose. He turned to see a giant sign with a yellow 'M' on the top and turned to ask England if they could stop by. After taking one glance at it, England scrunched his face up in disgust.

"Oh no, noooooooo way. I am NOT entering that place. Not in a million years!"

* * *

**haha! :33**

**whoever can guess what America saw gets a cookie...even though it's pretty obvious.**

**anyways, R&R and constructive critisiscm! Flames will jus burn yer fingers to type.  
**


	6. Do They Even Serve Those Flavors?

**Q:'TIS CHAPTER BE A DAY LATE, AUTHOR. WHY?**

**A:I went to a surprise wedding. ;w;**

**Q:'TIS CHAPTER BE ANGSTY. WHY? WHERE'S THE FLUFFINESS?**

**A:...Dunno, the wedding made me feel like writing angst! ;W; It was a very nice wedding though...**

**ANYWAYS, PLEASE EXCUSE THE DAY-LATENESS...ONTO THE REVIEWS:**

**_From Chapter 4: _**

**xNeve: Urgh, that glitch nearly killed me. I felt horrible knwoing my readers waited patiently fer a weekly update, and never got it until a week later. ;w;**

**_From Chapter 5:_**

**foreversnowynights: YEW WERE CORRECT. HERE BE THINE COOKIE: *hands it to yew***

**1woof1: And here is more! :D**

**evil temari: IS THIS SOON ENOUGH? ;W; *hands a cookie* ;w; I made it so obvious didn't i? ;w;**

**xNeve: I DID. I AM HAPPY. And puppy face wun't work unless Meri means it. ;w; He needs his other emotions first!**

**canada'sgirl: THAT HE DID. *hands a cookie***

**Otakufever0267: *hands yew yer cookie* Yep. What Alfred can resist the tempting thought of a Big Mac and a Play Place? :D**

**BeerxxWinexxRumxxHamburger: Yer welcome! I rly enjoy updating! :D and thank yew fer that complement! :D *hands yew cokie fer the right answer***

**PaSuTa: *HANDS YEW THIS COOKIE OF RIGHTNESS* France is jus weird, he can do things with his mind! ...no really, he can _do_ things with his mind...It's very creepy really. Anyways, YEW WILL SEE HOW THIS ALL CAME TO BE SOON...like in chapter 10...er sumfin...  
**

**Disclaimer: DO I REALLY NEEDA SAY I DO NOT OWN?**

* * *

"Remind me why I'm here again," an agitated Brit asked. His answer came in the form of an American stuffing himself with greasy, disgusting, heart stopping, hamburgers. England rubbed his temples in circles, trying in vain to suppress an oncoming headache. After watching America stuff his face with more hamburgers than even Ronald McDonald himself could devour, England let his mind go back to how he had ended up there in the first place.

_**~This is a Flashback Line break :D~~~**_

_ "AMERICA, WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?" England screeched, running out of the house to grab the American's arm. America turned to look at him, and then dropped the car back onto the floor. "What's wrong, Master?" America asked._

_ "What's wrong...? WHAT'S WRONG? YOU WERE CARRYING MY CAR TO HEAVEN KNOWS WHERE! WHAT IF PEOPLE SAW YOU?" England shrieked. America stared at him blankly and said, "I was going to that place I saw earlier, and I brought the car with me because it seems all humans have a car with them. But Master, people saw me at the store. Can they only see me over there?"_

_ England sighed, he would have to explain a lot of things now, and he didn't really feel like taking the time to talk about how people aren't that strong, even if the superheroes in those cartoons America watches are. He inwardly groaned, and then said, "...Fine, whatever. Just as long as you never try another stunt like carrying my car anywhere every again, I will take you to..."_

_ "To...?"_

_ "...To that heart attack inducing garbage dump, McDonald's," England finished, his eye twitching and feeling nauseous. He climbed back into the car and drove to said fast food place._

___**~This is an End Flashback Line break D:~~~**_  


England's eyebrow twitched as he sighed in frustration. Now the git was slurping down a milkshake like it'd disappear any second. What flavor had he gotten again? Vanilla? Chocolate? Strawberry? ...Where those flavors even served here? Ah, it didn't really matter. He started to let his mind wander, but America's slurping wouldn't let that happen.

'_Good heavens! That boy, his slurping is atrocious! It's a miracle he isn't choking considering how much air he's swallowing along with that dairy drink. Is he even tasting anything? It seems like he's barely even swallowing it..._' England thought. Suddenly, America stopped his slurping, and it was replaced with coughs. England eyes widened, and he reached over to pat America's back. The milkshake that was in America's mouth was spat out, and it started to drizzle down to his chin. Some of it landed on England's shirt, and he cringed at how gross it was, but pat America's back regardless. Soon, America stopped choking and took deep lungfuls of air. England took a breath he himself needed, and sat back down in his chair.

"See America! You nearly choked! This is why you don't slurp down your drink at such a quick pace! Or better yet, this is why you never even come to this establishment! All it ever brings is─" England cut himself off. England felt his face heat up as he found his eyes start to take in every detail of took a good look at America and the dairy drink that had made it's way to his chin while he choked. His hair had gotten disheveled when England furiously pat his back, and his face was red from the lack of oxygen(1). His eyes were a tad bit watery, and his clothes were wrinkled in his panic.

He also had some milkshake now making its way from his chin, to his neck.

Vanilla milkshake.

_Vanilla_.

'_W-Well...that answers...the flavor...question..._' was all poor England managed to think at the moment. He openly stared at America, and the American seemed to notice. '_Why's Master staring at me? Is it because of how stupid I am? Maybe─Oh wait what's running down my neck? Is that...Oh! It's my milkshake. I shouldn't waste it,_' America thought. He grabbed a napkin and started to wipe it off his neck, then used his tongue to lick up the corners of his mouth. He smacked his lips together, and nodded when he felt that there wasn't anymore vanilla milkshake on his face.

While he did this, England was slowly losing his mind. It was bad enough that America had that milkshake all over his face, that was already almost too much for the poor Brit to handle, but no. He just _had_ to start licking it up. America was such a glutton and...it was so disgusting and his tongue was lapping the vanilla dairy product up when it was the very thing that caused his choking and...it was disgusting and...and..it was...and it was...it was...

Did the room just get a little hotter? England tugged at his collar uncomfortably. He started to fidget, and his mind kept conjuring up images of him and America. Disturbing images. Disturbing images that he found weren't such a bad idea and maybe he should try them out when they got ho WHAT WAS HE THINKING?

England slammed his head onto the table and let out a groan. Whether it was from the pain or something else, he didn't know. All he knew, was that milkshakes weren't good for his health.

America noticed his Master's discomfort and asked, "Master? Is something the matter? Would you like to go home?" He could barely make out a slight nod England made. America got up, threw away his trash, and started walking to the door. He stopped when he noticed England still had his face in the table. He walked over with his neutral expression showing only the slightest annoyance, and proceeded to lift the flustered (not that America knew) Brit up bridal style, and carry him to the car.

England felt himself getting lifted up, and his face burst into flames when he realized it was America. He struggled, and finally managed to get on the floor. When his feet touched solid ground, he ran into the car and turned it on, nearly leaving without America.

* * *

The drive home helped calm England down a bit, and the windows were rolled down to let fresh air help with his cheeks. They've grown to love blushing, bloody wankers.

England pulled up into the driveway and parked the car. He followed America into the house, then collapsed onto the couch. He heard footsteps approaching him, and he groaned again.

"America, I'm tired, please don't tell me you want me to move so you can watch your bloody cartoons..." England mumbled. America shook his head and said, "No, I just wanted to say thank you for taking me to McDonald's, Master." Another faked smile adorned America's face. Oh, how that stabbed England's heart. England tried not to show any sadness in his voice when he replied, "It's nothing...Your welcome..."

It looks like he succeeded, because America paid no mind and asked something else, "By the way, Master. On our drive home, I saw this one thing going on in the park. There were a lot of people and a woman was walking down what looked like an aisle. She was wearing a beautiful white dress. There was this one man standing in front of a..I think a priest, and he was dressed in a tuxedo. He looked nervous. What were they doing, Master?"

"They were having a wedding."

"So they were getting married? That means they love each other, correct?" England nodded.

"...Hey Master, why do people love each other?" America inquired. He had read through all the definitions and causes of love when he had heard one of the superheroes on T.V talking about it. The question caught England off guard, and he had to think a little to actually explain it to America.

"Uhm...well...People love each other because...it just happens I guess. You meet a person, get to know them and then, you fall in love," England said. America nodded, and then asked, "What do people do when they love each other?"

"Erm..well, they spend time together. They could go out for dinner, go to the movies, walk along the beach, in the park, they might go out on dates, stay home. They'll kiss each other and hug each other and tell them how much they love them. Sometimes, they love each other so much that they'll get married, maybe start a family have kids. It's kind of hard to explain all the things people do, America. Erm...Is that all?" England explained. America seemed to think, then asked one more question.

"What does it feel like to be in love?"

At this, England had to think long and hard. What _did_ it feel like to be in love? Sure, he'd been in relationships before, but he didn't think that he _loved_ the other person enough to get married to...ESPECIALLY the one he had gotten out of a couple months ago. _That_ had ended in disaster. To this day, England still can't believe he had dated such a bloody Casanova.

"Master?"

Oh yeah, America had asked a question. Better answer it. "Well...I guess...when people are in love they feel happy, content. They get butterflies in their stomach and whatnot. They feel as if they were floating on air, their hearts would beat at faster paces when their lovers did something nice for them. They'll be happy for the littlest thing and they'd blush for those things too. ...Er so I've read," England said, honestly not able to think of anything else. He looked up to see America scowling, much like he had when England first smiled.

"Master, I don't like how love sounds. It's filled with all these emotions that I cannot feel. Why is it that all the humans can feel things that sound so wonderful except me? Even if this is just in spite, I don't want to fall in love. Master, I am thankful that I do not have any positive emotions," America spat out. England felt like he'd been punched in the gut when America said that he didn't want to fall in love, and he felt like a bull rammed into that same spot when America said he didn't want any positive emotions. He could feel tears coming on, but he couldn't explain why he was so upset. '_It's just because instead of being successful, America's a failure...isn't it?_'

America saw that his Master was tearing up, and he felt guilty again, although he didn't know what he'd done wrong. In an attempt to make his Master feel better, America smiled like he'd seen people on T.V smile, and he said, "I'm sorry Master. I do not know what I did to make you upset, but please accept my apology." That did it.

The tears were freely flowing down England's face now. America's smile broke his heart, it was just so...so fake. He got up and ran to his room, wiping the tears on his sleeve. He locked his door and fell on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"Stupid bloody git, making me cry into a pillow like some stupid heartbroken pre-teen girl. Why am I even crying? It's not like having America be a failure is reason enough to cry...but that's the only thing that would explain it...Bloody stupid tears," England choked out. A pixie flew across the room and tentatively placed her dainty little hand on England's shoulder. "Ar─England...? Are you ok?" she asked.

England sniffed, and brought his head out of the pillow to look at her. "Oh, hello Ellina...It's...nothing. I'm fine," England lied. Ellina scowled, "You most certainly are not alright! C'mon, what's with all this crying? It's America, isn't it? Why'd you build him if all he does is cause you grief? Look, I know you've been sulking about the whole Francis thing, but I don't think that making some artificial companion to love you instead is_─" _Ellina couldn't finish her sentence because he was swatted away and her back hit the wall. She slid down, and another Pixie rushes out of her hiding place and caught her before she could hit the ground.

"What have I said...about mentioning...that...wine...chugging...son of a...His name must never come out of your mouth again...Got that, Ellina?" England said in an icy tone. Ellina coughed, and nodded her head weakly. England felt extremely guilty about violently swatting her away, but his guilt was overshadowed by the anger he felt towards..._that man_. He briskly walked passed her and opened up his alcohol cabinet. He grabbed whatever, and started to chug it down. Before he could completely fall under the bliss of drunkenness, he heard Ellina mutter, "Don't blame me if you fall in love with America...That would only cause you more grief, Arthur."

The shattering of glass was heard before England took the next bottle, and immersed himself in that bliss that is inebriation.

* * *

**(1) Ok, I have no idea if that happens to anybody else when they choke, but I turn all red when I do. It sucks, I mean like, I'm choking, and all the blood is in my head so my head is burning. ;w;**

**Oh, and I got the name Ellina from this game I play, Maplestory. It's a city in Victoria Island, and I've been spelling it wrong my entire life. I guess it's actually Ellinia, not Ellina...so yeah, misspelling turned into a name. Nice.  
**

**I HOPE YEW ENJOYED THE ANGST? AND THE FANSERVICE-ISHNESS IN MCDONALD'S? I hafta sleep now, CST's tomorrow and everythin...Night...**

**R&R...*yawns***

**Constructive...criticisms...*eyes closing***

***asleep before your flames could burn me*  
**


	7. It Hurts, Stop It!

**A/N At the bottom this time ouo...AS is the Disclaimer...WARNINGS?: By the way this chapter officially starts the abuse. I guess uhm...Warnings for cutting, punching? Slamming a wine bottle on Americans...uhmm...implied...things...and I think that's it...yeah...  
**

**Reviews:**

**canada'sgirl: YER OH SO VERY WELCOME~**

**Otakufever0627: lol, well it _is_ based loosely off that song...:D thank yew fer that lovely review~ I hope this isn't that late...I was having some trouble logging in yesterday...  
**

* * *

He knew he should have just gone straight to his room.

_"S-Stop that! No, stop it! It hurts! Master, ow! No! I don't─"_

"Shut up. You like this pain, it makes you more beautiful. Covered in all those beautiful cuts, like little red vines of a flowerless plant. Hmmm, maybe we should add some~."

Didn't he learn from last time? Master acted strangely when he was drunk.

_"STOP IT! IT HURTS, MASTER! S-STOP HURTING ME!"_

"SHUT UP. I'M SHOWING YOU HOW THESE WINE BOTTLES NEED TO BE STRONGER." Crash. "SEE? IT SHATTERS ON IMPACT!"

Why? Why was Master hurting him? Why couldn't he see that the cuts, the punches, kicks, slaps, _words_were scarring him?

_"A-Ahh! M-Master, P-Please S-S-Stop! I-It h-h-hurt...s..."_

"Stop being a useless git and enjoy this you bloody robot. Not everybody is as lucky as you. Look at you, crying and slobbering all over my clean sheets, instead of being a nice obedient child. Then again, your not human, you weren't born to be a human. You were created, nothing more that a hunk of metal."

Tears. Sobs. Wails. Screams. Moans. Begs. When did they all start to morph together? His Master said he'd feel nice...he lied. This was horrible. He felt like nothing more than a toy to be broken. He wanted it to end. He oh so desperately wanted this all to end, to go back to his Master working on his embroidery while he watched cartoons.

His prayers were granted when Master laid down next to him. He was petting his hair in what was supposedly a loving matter, but it only made him feel like a pet of some sort.

...Maybe he was.

He could feel tears coming on at that thought, but he was able to keep them at bay. That is, until Master starting whispering how much he loved him. That made the tears fall, except they were less of sadness and more of anger. Love. That stupid emotion that humans could feel, and he couldn't. Is this what people did to the ones they loved? Why was love such a twisted emotion? Was that man at the wedding doing this to the woman? Is this how humans showed they loved each other? Disgusting.

He was filled with disgust, anger, pain, and above all, sadness. How could his master have done this to him? His head started to hurt, adding to the pain that the cuts and bruises caused. Not to mention how sore he was.

Wiping his eyes, he got up and started to walk to his room dejectedly, but Master looked at him with sad eyes.

"Are you leaving? Why don't you stay? We'll be warmer that way," Master said. He bit his lip, knowing that if it was an order, then he'd have to listen, and he wanted nothing more than to just go to bed and forget about this whole thing. "I-I'm sure y-you'd like it more i-if...I left you a-alone and...didn't di-disturb you s-sleep..."

He immediately regretted what had slipped his mouth when Master's pleading look turned back into the sadistic grin that he had worn while he was carving his art into his skin.

"Hmmm? But I _know _that you want to stay here, right? You love me too much to let me sleep alone, correct? Maybe you hadn't heard me. Why don't you sleep here," Master ordered. He bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes again. Reluctantly, he trudged back to Master and yelped when his cowlick was yanked none too gently. Right when he was sure he would have to suffer again, Master's face changed and he rushed into the bathroom. He heard choking sounds come from there, and took his chance to bolt back to his room. He locked his door, then changed into pajamas that covered up his cuts and bruises. He collapsed into his bed and silently sobbed until his battery started to run low. At that point, he automatically went into power save mode.

* * *

_Pourquoi les poules pondent des oeufs?_

Pour que les oeufs fassent des poules.

"Who's there?"

_Pourquoi les amoureux s'embrassent?_

C'est pour que les pigeons roucoulent.

"Huh? What are you saying? Lovers kissing?"

_Pourquoi les jolies fleurs se fanent?_

Parce que ca fait partie du charme.

"Flowers fading? What? I don't get it. Who's singing?"

_"I love you, Mon Cher~ Don't let that stodgy old British grump get to you~"_

"What?"

_ "Goodbye for now, your battery's extremely low, so I'll let you save the rest. You should have enough energy to last you until breakfast tomorrow."_

"Ermm...Goodbye?"

* * *

"My aching pounding head. What happened?" England groaned, after he had finished his exchange with his toilet. The fact that he was commando hadn't even crossed his brain until one of his pixies cleared her throat and pointed at the mirror, politely looking the other way. When England noticed his attire, or lack of it, he flushed of embarrassment and walked to his wardrobe, putting on pajamas. His head continued to throb, and he fell on his bed groaning.

"Ellina? Stella? Can you guys get me some medicine for my head? It's killing me..." England asked. Stella nodded, and gently dragged Ellina with her. They went down into the kitchen, but not before going into America's room and checking up on him. They sighed and shook their heads, ruffling his hair as a way to comfort him, then continued on their errand.

When they arrived back into England's room, they put the pills on his nightstand and went to the bathroom to get some water. They returned, and England gratefully took the water and swallowed down the pills. His head started to clear up, and he let out a sigh of content.

"Ah, thank you Stella, Ellina. Don't know what I would do without you two," England thanked, turning to give them a thankful smile. Stella smiled back, and Ellina tried her best to. Seeing Ellina's reluctance, England felt immensely guilty. He reached up towards her, and Ellina flinched.

"A-Ah! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. ...Listen Ellina, about earlier, I'm...sorry. I didn't mean to treat you so roughly, I just was...so angry and...I'm sor─"

"Thank you, but I'm not the one you should be apologizing too," Ellina said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing. Goodnight England, be nice to America, ok? I'm sure you don't want to lose him."

England sputtered and his face lit up like a bright red neon sign that practically screamed 'Look at me! I'm blushing! Aint I awesome?'. "I-I-I-I d-d-don't care i-if that g-g-git's h-h-here!" he stuttered. Ellina gave him a heartbreaking smile and shook her head, "Just...treat him well. And lay off the drinking, it's not doing anybody any good."

"Ah, I'm sorry to inconvenience you and Stella. You two always have to travel to the kitchen and get the pills. I'll try to lay off it, ok?" England said, feeling his eyes start to droop. Ellina smiled her sad smile again and shook her head. "Goodnight..."

"Goodnight, Ellina."

* * *

_"Mmmm, hey Master?"_

_"What is it, pet?"_

_"Are all sunsets this beautiful?"_

_England turned to face his lover, "Why, yes they are. But I can assure you, your at least a thousand times more beautiful than any sunset."_

_His lover flushed and looked away. He started fidgeting, but England could see the small smile adorning his face. He smiled himself, and looked back out towards the horizon, admiring the scene in front of him._

_"H-Hey...Master?"_

_"What is it now, Am─"_

_He couldn't finish his sentence, because his lips were a little too occupied at the moment. He smiled into the kiss, savoring in its sweet innocence. His lover really did know how to give the cutest most loving kisses. When they broke apart, he was blushing and obviously embarrassed, and England just smiled contently. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and chuckled when he felt him jump. Soon, his partner's head was laid lazily on England's shoulder, and they continued to stare into the horizon until the sun was no longer in view._

_"Hey Master?"_

_England couldn't help but chuckle, "_Now_ what is it?"_

_He heard his partner giggle, and then barely whisper out, "I...uhm...Well..I kind of...Erm..."_

_"Out with it boy, I want to know what you wanted to say."_

_"Erm.. well.. I kinda wanted to say that... Uhmm... I kinda... er... L-Lo... lov... er... I'm saying that I really lo-... IKindaReallyLoveYouMaster..."_

_"What? Stop mumbling, I can't understand you."_

_"I-I love...yeah uhmm..." That's all England needed. He smiled at his lover's darling sky blue eyes and wheat colored hair, absolutely loving the way his face was flushed a sweet pink._

_"Oh, I love you too. I love you more than anything in the world, America."_

* * *

England cracked his eye open, only to be met with a ray of sunlight that obnoxiously decided to shine on him. Grumbling to himself, he ducked his head under the covers and tried to remember his dream. He knew it was important, like, extremely important. But what was it? The ghost of his earlier hangover wasn't helping. He sighed and got up. While he walked to his wardrobe, he tripped on some clothes that littered his floor.

"What the bloody...these are America's clothes. ...America's...THAT BLOODY GIT! HE DUMPED HIS DIRTY LAUNDRY IN HERE! WHERE IS THAT SODDING GIT?" England screeched. He grabbed the clothes and ran into America's room, looking around for him. When he didn't see him, he tried the living room to see if he was watching cartoons. When he wasn't there, he tried the kitchen, and he saw the tell-tale signs of a cowlick sticking above the refrigerator door.

"AMERICA! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF YOU LEAVING YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY IN MY ROOM?" England yelled. America flinched, dropping the carton of milk on the floor and letting it spill everywhere. England saw this, and sighed in frustration.

"You leave your laundry in my room, and now dump milk on the floor. Perfect, just what I needed..." England grumbled. America closed the fridge door and quickly grabbed some paper towels to clean the milk up. England couldn't help but notice the urgency that America had while he did this. It was almost as if...he was afraid of what would happen if he didn't leave the floor spotless in exactly five seconds.

"I-I'm sorry Master! I didn't mean too, I'm sorry! Please forgive me, I'm cleaning it up see?" America gushed out. He picked up the now empty carton, and thre it in the trash along with the paper towels. He pointed to the now clean floor and looked at England.

When England looked at America's face full-on, he felt like he's been slapped by ice-cold water, if that was possible. His dream rushed back to him, and the blood rushed to his face and neck. He cursed loudly and America jumped. He started to apologize, but England paid him no mind. He calmly walked, most certainly did not run, to the living room, and flopped onto the couch.

"Bloody, was that a dream about America? No, that's impossible! I said I love him there, it couldn't have been America! It must have been somebody else...Yes, that's it. Somebody else. It most certainly was _not America_. ...But what if it was? I-I can't love America! He's not human...and he's a boy! ...Then again I've dated other males before so I can't use that as an excuse..."

"Face it England, you love America," a voice came from above.

"...My guardian Angel?" England asked incredulously, looking at the ceiling. All he saw was a Flying Mint Bunny. ...Oh. Of course.

"...Whatever you want to believe, England," Flying Mint Bunny started rolling his eyes, "But I mean, look. Your madly in love with America. They say that dreams are your brain's way of telling you things that you need to notice."

Now it was England's turn to roll his eyes, "That's ridiculous! I can't love America, I mean...he's...and I'm..."

"England, how much longer will you be in denial?" Flying Mint Bunny asked impatiently.

"...Not much longer, I'm guessing. It's getting pretty hard to deny it now..." England said, defeated. Flying Mint bunny smiled, and landed on England's lap, "Listen, it's ok if you love America. I'm sure it'll all work out, and if you love him, you won't hurt him!" England sighed, and pet Flying Mint Bunny's head. He was so unbelievably confused, even when his answer was staring him in the face, and giving him a death glare. Did he love America? Of course he did...he just didn't want to admit it.

"...Ah, bollocks! Whatever, if I love that git, then I guess I love him. There's no helping it," England said, exasperated. Flying Mint Bunny smiled, then flew out of England lap and towards his room, leaving England there to blush by himself.

...He really did need to lay off the blushing, stupid bloody cheeks. He hated them with such a passion.

* * *

**THAT TOOK A LOT OF EFFORT.  
YEW DUN'T EVEN KNOW.  
YEEEWWW DUN'T EVEN KNOW...**

**urgh, that first part, it was so depressing and angsty and...abusive. ;A;**  
**ENGLAND, Y YEW HURT AMERICA LIKE THAT?**

**DID I RLY WRITE THAT? URGH, I'M SORRY MERI, I DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT YEW. ;W;**  
**Uhhh...so yeah...Abuse starts from here...and hey lookit! Iggy realized his love! Hooray!**  
**About Stella, it;s Latin fer star cuz like...Ellina and Estrella didn't seem to fit...Stella on the other hand...it sounded so fancy...Steh-luh er Stay-ya? Hmmm...**

**...By the way...is this still T? Er is it M? Hmmm...  
**

**The french in there is a song that's either _called_ Le Papillon, er from a movie called Le Papillon...basically it's like:**

**Why the hens lay eggs?**  
**So that the eggs make hens.**

**Why lovers kiss each other?**  
**It's so that the love birds sing love song each other.**

**Why the pretty flowers fade?**  
**Because that belonged to the charm.**

**Translation (c) video army (on youtube)**

**...yeah...I'M TAKIN FRENCH NEXT YEAR. FRANCE BLESS MAH TONGUE, IMA SPEAK YER PRETTY LANGUAGE.**

**So yeah, that's angst n stuff...R&R! I'll love yew ferever! Flame will burn Le Papillon, not me!**

**Disclaimer: HOW MUCH MORE PROOF DO YEW NEED OF MY NON-OWNERSHIP?**


	8. Side Story Omake Thing: What is THAT!

**Ok, for starters, this is NOT a real chapter. It's more like a side story thing...Ima be adding these in every so often, so yeah...**

**...**

**But really, I got a lil blocked today, which is strange because it never happens, so I'm kinda stuck on howta start chapter 8...it'll go away really quick, trust me, my attention span is so small, I can't even pay attention to a Writer's Block for more than half a day. I promise that I'll get chapter 8 sometime later today, if not tomorrow at the latest.**

**Since this isn't an official chapter really...there aren't any reviews in this one...;w;...oh but, this chapter has something that will (hopefull) appear in like...later chapters.**

**...**

**Much later.**

**...**

**...**

**Like later...**

**...**

**Yeah...**

**Disclaimer: I DEW NOT OWN DIS BEAUTIFUL CREATURE CALLED ENGLAND, NOR AMERICA. OR POKEMON FER THAT MATTER.**

**...btw I dun't have a beta...and I probably will never have one...  
**

* * *

"...America..."

"Hmmm? What is it, Master?" America inquired.

"What in that good name of Busby is THAT?" England shouted, pointing at the creature that was currently staring at him from America's arms. America looked down to stare at it, and then said, "I believe it is called a 'Pikachu'."

England remained silent, then face palmed. He slowly dragged his hand down from his forehead and let it fall back down to his side. He sighed and then asked, "From that one children's show...What's it called? 'Poke A Mon', 'Po Key Man'? What in blazes is it doing here?" America huffed, hugging the Pikachu closer and indigently said, "It's 'Pokémon' jeez, get it right! And I was...erm...Working on a very important mission in your laboratory...And it involved...Creating artificial life!"

"So basically you went into by lab─uninvited I may add─ and started playing around. Then by some freak accident you created a Pikachu," England deadpanned. America flushed from his embarrassment and nodded sheepishly. From his newly updated emotion database, he could already tell that shame and embarrassment were two more emotions that were thrown into the pile of emotions that he didn't like. ...Come to think of it, all the emotion's he's had so far are in that pile. Well, no time to think about that, it looked like Master was about to scold him.

"Bollocks America, now what am I to do? We have this...this...this Pokémon in our house, and no idea how to take care of it! And worse yet...It doesn't appear to be normal..." England noted. He had passed by when America watched his cartoon(he insisted it was 'anime' whatever that was), even watching a full episode with him one time, and the Pikachu in Pokémon looked different. For starters, it's eyes were a deep dark brown, this Pikachu's eyes were a weird sort of mix of blue and green. It wore glasses, had colossal eyebrows and it even had America's cowlick as well. It also had some sort of...British-American flag kerchief...

"...It's just different is all. It kind of reminds me of you, the eyebrows seem to be the same size," America commented. England sputtered, rushing up to cover his eyebrows. So what if his were...slightly larger than normal? They weren't as big as that thing's!

"...My eyebrows are not that big. Now c'mon, America, we're going back to the lab and dismantling it this instant! ...Or...deleting it...or...what it is made out of anyways?" England asked. America responded saying, "I believe it's the same material as I am, Master. But, must we really dismantle it? It doesn't seem to be any threat to our health." England shook his head. Great, now the boy was getting _attached_ to it...

...Wait...

He was getting _**attached**_ to it!

England knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, but he did anyway. Before he could really think he blurted out, "America! Are you actually saying that you're starting to like that thing? That's wonderful! If you really like it that much, we can keep it!"

"I don't really feel any particular fondness towards it, I was saying we should not destroy it because I am positive he won't let us, and he'll escape outside into the world and let out all of your secrets. And then people will come by and see me and take me away and experiment on me," America said in a bored voice. That stabbed England's heart, it really did. He had gotten his hopes up that America was starting to be able to feel fondness (which would mean he could fall in love with England...Not that he wanted that to happen! No no no! That was just...ok maybe a little...), and then it turned out he was just starting to get a taste of selfishness. Life really hated him, didn't it?

"...Well if that's the case, then I'm sure I can dismantle it. It's just a wild animal after all, it can't outsmart the brilliant England. Hand it over," England commanded, somewhat bitterly. America did what he was told and handed the Pikachu over to England. As soon as he was no longer in contact with it, the Pikachu started to struggle to get out of England's arms.

"Hey! Hold still! Stop moving! I said stop moving you little─"

"_Piii..."_

"...Master...Put Pikachu down..."

"STOP MOVING!"

"_Kaaaa..."_

"M-Master...I think you should put it down now..."

"Argh, not until I dismantle it!"

"N-No you really should─"

"_**CHUUUUUUUU!**__"_

America watched with a blank face as the Pikachu shocked England into paralysis, then scurried off to hide in the lab somewhere. Letting out a sigh, America carried the paralyzed England into his room and layed him down on the bed. It was a shame that the shock wasn't enough to paralyze his mouth. It seemed like from his neck up, England was able to move. The entire time, America had to listen to England shouting curses, complaining, or orders. He sighed one more time, and reseigned himself to one busy day...

* * *

**I hope yew enjoyed this cracktastic side story...which had nothing to do with the main story at all!**

**...**

**But that Pikachu MAY appear one day, jus so ya know...thinking of naming it Igerikachu...**

**...**

**er Allen.**

**...**

**not from DGM tho...I think of Allen Walker as more of an absol. I jus like the name Allen ;w;**

**R&R and chapter 8 will come out sooner! I jus know it! oh, and if you wanna see what Igerikachu...er Allen...looks like here: **

http :/ hikugamizumi . deviantart . com /gallery/ #/ d3e5ifq

**jus remove the spaces...n stuff...er go to my profile and click the link.  
**


	9. Using Magical Seashells

**URGH. WRITERS BLOCK. IT LOVES ME. I HATE IT. WHAAIIII? ;A; **

**personally, I like this chapter...it managed to come out somewhat ok even with this giant writer's block ;w;...yeah...;w; I hope yew enjoy...I would upload another chapter today to make up fer my broken promise of updating this sunday, but my cuzn's sleeping in my room and she needs to sleep now. ;w;**

**Reviews:**

**artfan: I'd say in about a few chapters France will get his big break! :D And yuss, Iggy's finally got his feelings straight! :33**

**Otakufever0627: it is rare isn't it? That's usually England...unless they're watching a scary movie. er well...here's the next OFFICIAL chapter...x33;;**

**Loziano: Dang...that's like...the most colorful review i've ever seen! IT'S AWESOME! YEW WIN. And France jus wants to take Meri to make Iggy jealous, non? I hope yew enjoy this chapter :D**

**Otakufever0267 (again cuz yer awesome and reviewed the omake xD): i couldn't help it, there was this british American pikachu staring at me from ym math notes and I jus ended up writing that! ;w; I'm glad yew enjoyed it and I hope yew enjoy this chapter too! :D ...Even tho the majority of it is more angst. ;w;**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia...dear Arcues, SO MUCH ANGSTY INSANITY. ;W;  
**

* * *

"...There, I finally downloaded it," America said, checking to make sure that his latest download was put in the right place. That one French voice in his head had started to annoy him because he could barely understand anything, but now with his new language pack, he would be able to. He turned to face his clock, but remembered he could just check his internal one...

...Humans didn't have internal clocks.

America frowned, and shoved his head into a pillow. It was a miracle he wasn't limping when he walked, one that he was grateful for. England probably▬No, he definitely▬didn't remember what had happened the night before, and America really wanted to keep it that way. England hurt him. Not just physically, no, that wasn't that bad. It was the words that had been spat out, that cut him deep down, right where his heart was...

...His heart...

America sat up, then placed a hand in the spot where a heart was supposed to be. He could feel the steady '_ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump_' of a vital organ. He let left it there for a while, wondering if it was really a human heart, or just a program his Master made for him. Maybe it was neither, and just another hunk of metal made to imitate a human heart. Just another hunk of metal...

_"I'm an abso-bloody-lutey brilliant genius. Being able to come up with a way to make sure you feel warm to the touch, instead of ice cold like you should be. In fact, it's unnatural. Metal rubbish like you shouldn't even be moving."_

America bit his lip, swallowing a sob. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and winced when he brushed up against a few still open cuts and fresh bruises. It stung, and it hurt. It caused him pain and...Pain was something humans felt. America blinked a few times, then rolled up his sleeves and looked at a few scabbed over cuts, black and blue bruises, and some open cuts. He looked around, then grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol he was using to treat his wounds yesterday. He unscrewed it, then dumped nearly half the container's contents onto his cuts. It stung, and America let out a cry of pain and surprise. He stopped pouring it onto his skin, and set it back onto the table.

It stung, really bad, but that was slightly comforting to America. It proved that he was able to feel pain, and it made him feel more human. America knew that this wasn't a very good thing, to hurt himself just so that he can make sure he was still able to feel pain, to feel _human_, but just this once it was ok, he thought.

Sighing, he walked into his bathroom and grabbed a towel, drying off any access alcohol from his arm. When he was done he put his sleeve back down and sat back down on his bed. He could feel his battery still wasn't filled, even though he had a stack of waffles earlier. Grumbling, he got up and walked into the kitchen. Deciding on making more pancakes, and adding some eggs and bacon in, he started to gather the materials out of the refrigerator. As an afterthought, America decided to make some tea for his Master. Even if he was horribly abused the night before, that didn't mean he should be rude. In fact, America just wanted to forget what had happened.

He set the kettle on the stove and while he waited for the water to boil, he walked to the pantry and took out the pancake mix he was using before. He grabbed the measuring cup from the dish rack, set it on the counter, then walked back to the open fridge to grab the ingredients. He had just picked up the milk carton when England stormed in and yelled, "AMERICA! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF YOU LEAVING YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY IN MY ROOM?"

America nearly jumped a foot in the air, but his body flinched instead. The fear that had managed to burrow itself deep within America yesterday reemerged, and America felt his hand lose it's grip on the milk. It fell to the floor and splattered everywhere. He heard his Master let out a frustrated sigh and grumble about how the floor was dirty now. America panicked, quickly rushing and grabbing as many paper towels as he could. He threw them onto the floor, not even waiting for them to start soaking up the milk before he scrubbed with all his might.

"I-I'm sorry Master! I didn't mean too, I'm sorry! Please forgive me, I'm cleaning it up see?" he nearly shrieked. His mind was racing as he desperately cleaned up his mess. What if his Master was still drunk? Would he hurt him if the floor wasn't clean? Why was he such a fool, dropping the milk like that?

He threw the wet paper towels in the trash, and used however many of them were left to dry up. Once those were thrown away, he pointed to the positively sparkling floor and looked up at his Master with a fearful and worried gaze. His Master stared at him, and then cursed so loudly that America really _did_ jump this time. His panic started to escalate and he shrieked out a stream of apologies.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I promise to never let this happen again, I'm sorry Master, please forgive me! Forgive me, please forgive me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It won't happen ever again, please forgive me, Master I'm sorry! I'm Sorry!" '_Please don't hurt me..._'

It didn't seem like England was paying any attention, but America continued, even after his Master had run out of the kitchen. America was nearly sobbing by the time his Master left, and he needed to sit down quickly because at the moment, his legs felt really weak. He started walking towards the table, but the whistle of the kettle reminded him that he still had a breakfast to make. He forced his legs to walk towards the stove, but they gave out on him halfway there. He fell onto the floor and stayed there. He bit his lip so hard that it drew blood as he tried to keep his sadness from escaping him. He sat up and leaned against the wall.

Why had he panicked? It was obvious that his Master wasn't drunk if he was worried about dirty laundry...so why did he? He wasn't afraid of his Master now, was he? America sniffed, bringing his legs up to his chest. He didn't want to be afraid of his Master, his Master was nice to him. Only when he was drunk did he hurt America. America sniffed again, and then suddenly realized the kettle was still whistling.

After what felt like days, America summoned enough energy to get up and turn off the stove. He poured the hot water into a teacup and added in a bag of his Master's favorite tea. He walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second carton of milk, and all the other ingredients needed to make breakfast. When everything was completed, he ate enough to recharge his batteries. Once fully recharged, America set down a plate of eggs, three pieces of bacon and a stack of pancakes down on the table. He placed the tea right next to it, then headed towards his room.

* * *

Unbeknown to America and England, Stella and Ellina watched the whole fiasco happen. When England ran out, they flew to get Flying Mint Bunny. After telling him what had occurred, he nodded and headed off towards the living room. Stella and Ellina headed towards America's room as well.

When they entered the room, they saw America on the bed, singing a song. When they got closer, they actually discovered that he wasn't singing, but talking.

"▬And then Master grabbed a wine bottle and smashed it on my back...No, it didn't hurt as much as the words he said did and▬H-Hey, what's the matter?"

Ellina shot Stella a confused look, and Stella returned it. It sounded like America was talking to somebody, but nobody else was in the room. Stella crossed her arms, and then an idea came to her. She grabbed a magic seashell(1) from her pocket, then flew next to America and placed it on her ear.

"_Mon cher, nothing is the matter. Why would you even suspect anything to be être mal?(2) I'm just so furieux that that blond British mongrel did anything to harm you!"_

Stella gasped, dropping her magical seashell and placing her hand over her mouth. Ellina looked at her quizzically, and all Stella said was, "America is talking...to..._him..._"

Ellina looked equally shocked, and they stayed rooted on that spot, listening to America's side of the conversation. After a while, they just decided to leave. They made their way to the living room, and saw England sitting on the couch, blushing furiously. They looked at each other and made a silent understanding not to tell England anything. As they flew there, Flying Mint Bunny joined them and said, "He's been sitting there blushing for the past thirty minutes."

"WHAT? SERIOUSLY?" Stella shouted incredulously. Flying Mint Bunny nodded, trying to stifle his laughter. Sighing, Ellina rolled her eyes and mumbled something along the lines of 'What a hopeless man you are, Arthur...' All three magical creatures sighed, then remembered that America had made England breakfast. Ellina flew up to England and said, "Hey! Are you just going to sit there all day, blushing like mad?" England didn't respond, his mind elsewhere. Ellina pouted, then tried again, "England! I'm talking to you! Answer me!" Once again no answer. Putting her hands on her dainty hips, Ellina shouted, "America made breakfast for you ya know, and your just letting it get cold!"

"Huh, what? America made breakfast?" England said, snapping out of his thoughts. Ellina sighed and nodded, then pointed towards the kitchen. England looked towards the kitchen, and felt his stomach let out a mighty roar. Blushing from embarrassment, he got up and scurried into it. He saw pancakes, eggs, bacon and...was that tea...?

England's gaze softened and he smiled. So, America swallowed his hatred for tea and made him some? England laughed. How that boy could resist one of life's luxuries was beyond him. He sat down and started eating his food, which was still just barely warm. America's cooking tasted ten times better for some reason, and England guessed it was because America made this breakfast for _him_ and his little epiphany earlier made him a little more self-conscience. England smiled through his mouthful of food, then an idea came to him. Smiling even wider, he hurriedly gulped down his food so that he could get started before the day got any later.

* * *

**(1) ...Magic Conchshell much? :D sorry, spongebob just randomly popped into my mnd when I wrote that xDD;;...**

**(2) Yeah...even though "_être mal_ " already has the 'to be' in it...it just sounded wrong to me ;w;**

**erm...yeah...uhh...translation I gues...x33?: **

**_être mal_ - to be amiss**

**_furieux_- furious**

**SO, DID YEW LIKE EET? DID YEW HATE EET? DID IT MAKE YEW CRY?**

**...**

**I know I cried. ;w;**

**R&R and I promise to try and add in as much fluffieness as I can in the next chapter! ;w;  
**


	10. We're Going on a Picnic!

**I could always use my excuse of being at Catalina for three days and in those three days having a project about building a car, taking notes on that, three sections in chapter 10 for math on Rational expressions to do, take notes on chapter 18 on the Reconstruction for Social Studies, then get a Resume, a Dream Book and Community Service as homework the week I get back, followed by having to care for my dogs, unpacking everything, having a concert on Tuesday, my music finals yesterday, having to study my butt off for the Algebra Placement exam fer Chaffey (my next high school) so that I can get into geometry, having to put post-it notes all over my room to remember to turn in my textbooks on Tuesday, having Egyptian Wednesday and thursday, church, watching my nephew and getting paid fer that, and finally cleaning up my room so my mom will let me have my annual 'End of the Year Party' as an excuse for not having this chapter written/posted until now, but yew guys probably wouldn'y take it...er yew would...er...**

**...I'm too tired to think straight right now ;w; Seriously, I can see Iggy and Meri kissing on my wall right now...I really need to get some sleep...**

**So, no France this chapter, and here starts the fluff again...fer a little. Then the angst comes back. ;w;**

**Reviews:**

**Alfred Fiery Jones: thank yew. ;w; This story is depressing me too, to the point where my fingers were having trouble writing fluff ;w;**

**XxBleedingSoulxX2828: LOL. I REMEMBER THAT. ahhh, I loved that episode. Gotta say though, this one was my favorite: 'But Squidward...they're good for your soul!' 'I have no soul.'**

**artfan: LOL. YEW DUN'T EVEN KNOW HOW AWESOME H'LL BE. HE'S GUNNA USE LIKE..HIS OLD MAN CANE TO WHOOP FRANCIS INTO NEXT CENTURY.**

**Otakufever0627: I know how that feels ;w; Like, I see so many sad movies and yet even when i will myself to cry I jus can't. ;w; ...and then I cry when I laugh. it's like 'what the heck?' anyways, yep. Iggy needs to apologize! ...Er better yet stop drinking. I hope this chapter and the next few (er well...at least one more) will have enough fluffienes to help you go through the rest of this story! ;w;**

**Disclaimer: I DEW NOT OWN THIS. ...ALTHOUGH I REALLY WANT A BEANBAG CHAIR RIGHT NAO...  
**

* * *

England scurried through the house after throwing away the dishes (all his food was served on plastic plates, the nerve of that git!). He stopped dead right in front of America's door, then took a moment to compose himself before politely knocking on the door. He heard a crash and started, slowly opening the door to see what had happened. It took all his willpower not to burst out laughing at the scene before him.

"America, dear child, I really do not think that is a very comfortable position to take a nap in," England said in a teasing tone. Oh how he wished he had a camera, that would had been grand. America was currently nestled between two beanbag chairs, feet up in the air and neck bent in a very uncomfortable position. The bookshelf was almost toppled over and papers were scattered everywhere and his jeans were nearly falling off him. England tried his best not to stare at America's legs, that would be very ungentlemanly, but...

Well, they _were_ very nice legs.

England shook his head, trying to shake those thoughts out as well, maybe even get rid of that blasted blush. He heard some grumbling noises and looked down to where America's head was. The boy grumbled some more then huffed, causing the paper that was on his face to flit up in the air and land safely back on his face. England chuckled and America made an irritated sound, then tried to blow the paper off again. It took a few tries until he actually succeeded, and when he did, he promptly stared at England. England stared back and raised his eyebrow, "What?" He got no answer, except for an outstretched hand and a very annoyed expression.

"Huh? You want me to help you up?" England asked, raising his other eyebrow. America nodded and England walked over saying, "Well, alright...but I don't see why you can't do this yourself."

As soon as England got close enough to America, he saw cuts and bruises on his face. He paused for a second, wondering where he could have gotten those. He had a vague idea that he knew, but it was extremely vague. In the end, he just pinned it on the fall that America had. He _did_ manage to knock over some books and such.

He hauled America up onto his feet and let go. As soon as he wasn't in contact with the other male, America tipped over and fell on the floor again with another 'thud'. He glared up at England, and stiffly held out his hand. England stared at the hand, then scowled.

"Oh no, I'm not picking you up again. _You're_ the one who chose to fall on the floor."

America made a growling sound in the back of his throat, then held out his hand a little more, a scowl now accompanying his glare. England scowled back, then lifted him up. This time, America clung to him for dear life. England tried to pry him off, but the boy wouldn't budge.

"Hey, get off, America! You're heavy, I don't want to have to drag you with me!" England yelled. He saw something flash in America's eyes at the word heavy, and he clung even tighter. England's scowl deepened and he said, "Git! Why won't you say something? Do you know how infuriating it is to have to drag somebody around who won't talk to you?" America sighed, then carefully took one hand off of England and pointed to his throat. England raised his eyebrow and stared. America made an annoyed sound and pointed to where his vocal chords were. He made a spinning motion with his free hand, then put his arms around England shoulders and made an 'X'.

"So..basically you the fall was so forceful that your vocal chords spun out of place and therefore, don't work," England concluded. America nodded his head and England made a 'hmm' noise. "Then the same applies to your sense of balance?" Another nod. England sighed, that would hinder the activities he had planned for today, but as long as he fixed everything quickly they may still be able to do them.

"Alright, c'mon, I'll go fix it right now," England said, dragging the American into his lab. He walked towards a table, then used every last bit of strength he had to haul America onto it. Once had laid America down, we walked over to a table and picked up what looked like some sort of device made to tune violins.

"Alright America, I'm going to need to put you on standby for a few minutes while I fix the problem, alright?" England said, walking up to America and pointing the two forks in the device on America's chest. America's expression changed, and some fear showed through his eyes, but England paid him no mind. He pushed a button on the side of the device and America felt his vision fade to black. He felt his entire body go numb, and, unlike his Power Save mode, his mind seemed to shut down as well. A yellow power circle flashed in America's now dulled eyes, and England nodded his head.

"Alright then, now let's see..."

England moved the device around America's throat until he little screen on it flashed saying 'VclChrds Detected!'. England let out a little 'Aha', then placed the forks on either side of the area America's vocal chords were in. He pressed another button on the device, then slowly started to move it from America's collar bone up towards his chin. England could hear America's vocal chords move with the device, and shuddered a bit. '_That sounds...so...creepy.._' he thought, repressing another shudder. Once he found the correct spot, he stopped, then pressed the screen. It read 'Adjusting Alignment...' and England patiently waited. '_That must have been quite a fall to make his vocal chords move that much..._' England idly thought. There was a beeping sound and he looked down to the screen that flashed 'Complete!'. England smiled, then took the device away from America's throat.

"Good, now we just have to adjust his balance and we're good to go!" England said triumphantly. He walked over to his computer, then typed in several commands. After he pressed 'Enter', the computer said 'Waiting for Recipient...'. England grabbed a red chord, walking over to America and clipping it onto his finger. He walked back, grabbed a few more cords, then connected them to America's fingers. The computer then proceeded with adjusting his sense of balance, and behind the yellow power circle green numbers flashed in America's eyes.

After some five or so minutes, the computer finished and England removed the cords. He placed them back where they belonged, then used the device he was still holding and placed it over America's heart again. He pressed the same button he used to put America in Standby, and waited until America woke up. The yellow power circle turned green, and America's eyes regained their life. He blinked a couple of times, then looked up at England.

"Master, that was strange...and slightly uncomfortable. Please never make me do that again," America said. England chuckled and ruffled his hair saying, "Sorry about that, but I needed to fix you. As long as you don't fall again, you should be fine."

"I would not have fallen if you hadn't startled me," America grumbled. England smiled, glancing at the clock then back at America. He did a double take, whipping around to see the clock again.

"BLOODY, IT'S THAT LATE ALREADY?"

America jumped, nearly falling off the table, he was about to say that is was only noon, but England rushed out of the room before he could. America was left to sit there and think. He tried not to think about how he was just _repaired_ something that was not at all human-like.

Meanwhile, England was furiously making sandwiches and baking scones, wrapping them quickly and throwing them into a picnic basket. He packed some water bottles and then shut the picnic basket. He grabbed his car keys and headed out the front door, opening up the trunk of his car and putting the basket inside. He then rushed back into the house, grabbed a nice blanket, and put that in the trunk too. After he had closed it, he went to grab America. Without much warning, he took his shoulder and led him into the passenger's seat, shutting the door and going around into the driver's seat. He buckled himself in (having to remind America to do so as well), and sped off towards his destination.

"Hey Master..."

"What?"

"Where are we going?"

Oh yeah, he forgot to tell America what they were doing. "We're going on a picnic, America. We'll be going to the park and eating my homemade food," England explained. He turned to smile at America, and ignored the look of fear in the poor boy's face.

"...W-We're going to e-eat...y-your...f-f-food...?" he asked. England nodded, his eyes back on the road. America stayed silent, then out of nowhere grabbed the steering wheel and made a sharp right turn.

"AMERICA, WHAT THE BLOODY BUSBY ARE YOU DOING?" England screeched, trying to pry the American off the steering wheel. It seemed as thought America was using his strength at the moment, because England couldn't even make him budge. America kept driving until England saw the familiar arches of that rubbish Americans called food. He was about to protest that he was NOT buying anything from there, but a quick and fierce glare from America kept him silent.

"Although I may not die from it, my digestive system is that of a human's, and I do not want to have to suffer through having a spoiled hockey puck travel through my intestines. We are going to get food from this establishment and I am going to eat it. Is that clear, Master?" America stated in a very authoritative tone. England gulped and nodded, and America smirked his mocking smirk.

"Good."

* * *

***LE GASP* IS AMERICA BEING ASSERTIVE? THAT'S NOT GEWD. ...YET. IGGY STILL WANTS TO BELIEVE HE HAS A CHANCE OF BEING SEME▬*/shot***

**anyways, DO YEW KNOW HOW HARD I WORKED ON THIS? IT'S LIKE, THE FLUFF JUS WOULDN'T COME. then I had my friend help me. She suggested having a picnic. So yeah~**

**...hrmm...hnghhh...IGGY, WHY DUN'T YEW LIKE FAST FOOD? ;W; *OTL* **

**so yeah...erm...wel...yeah...R&R! And uhm...flames are uh...oh shoot I fergot...I had like this one awesome thing I was gunna say and then like..I fergot it and jus...oh dear...it must be the lack of sleep and...I'm rambling...my friend said I had a rambling problem and...uh...**

**England: *smacks back of head* BELT UP!**

**Me: Uh...er...uhm...erhm...tired..and uh...yeah...errrr...*overload* *passes out***

**America: ...*sips coke and stares at me*  
**


	11. Omake Thing: I Really Need That Outfit

**HAPPY SATURDAY ALL~! I love this day~ I get to update~ And I present to you today, another Omake! And before you ask, no, I did not have Writer's block...I was just Listening to 'Wolves of the Sea' and got so into the song that this started typing!~ So yeah, once again, since it isn't an official chapter, reviews will not be posted here. Oh, chapter ten should follow soon, before next Saturday, probably tomorrow...and I'm serious this time! **

**Erm...Warnings/Notes?: Uhmm...England's Great Great Grandfather makes an appearence...kinda...oh, and Princess Bride Reference...Yep. And Uhmm...Sneaking around...and outfit fetishes from Iggy's side?  
**

**Disclaimer: I DUN'T OWN ANYTHING~~~  
**

* * *

America sat on the couch, staring at the clock. His Master said that he'd be back in a couple of hours...he that that about five hours ago. America tapped his finger on the couch's arm, not having really any idea what to do. He couldn't go into the kitchen and eat something, it was out of food which was the reason why his Master was even out in the first place. He stared up at the clock again and noticed that only a minute had passed from last time. He made an annoyed sound, and tilted his head back wondering what he could do.

"...I suppose I may look around the house for a while. Master wouldn't mind, after all I must become accustomed to this house. Although I've been alive for quite some time, I have never taken any time to thoroughly explore the house, so what harm could be done?" America mused aloud. He got up and headed upstairs, skipping his Master's and his rooms. He kept walking until he hit a door, but dismissed it when he saw it was only the lab. He turned to continue walking, but only saw a wall.

"...That is strange, when I saw the length of the house from outside in the front yard, it looked much larger than this..." America said. He walked up to the wall and put his ear on it. He didn't hear anything, and when he switched to his rarely used Infrared Vision, he saw nothing. Grumbling, he kicked a spring door stopper that was on the wall and shrieked when the wall practically disintegrated and he fell through it. He got up and coughed, flushing that he had let out such an unmanly squeak of terror. Thankfully, nobody had been around to see it and America was glad for that.

He looked around and saw that he was in what looked like an attic of sorts. There were old boxes everywhere and musty books whose pages were probably well worn and yellowed. There was dust everywhere, and it caused America to sneeze. What particularly caught America's eye though was a hat that was resting in a glass case on a shelf. He walked up to it and examined the tattered black leather, and the enormous and excessive amount of plumage protruding from it.

'_How strange,_' America thought, '_It's so tattered and old, yet it looks good as new. Master must really take care of it._'

America stared at the hat for a while, before removing it from the glass case and putting it on his head. His ever rebellious cowlick fought its way through the hat and stuck out in the front. The plumage blocked his eyes, and America had to throw it back until it decided to stay. America continued on with his little exploration, when he came across a wardrobe. Cocking an eyebrow, he opened it up and was greeted with a cloud of dust. This sent him into a coughing fit, followed my a lot of sneezing. After he recovered, he looked inside and saw plastic. Lots of plastic.

Blinking, he grabbed a clothes hanger that was covered in plastic. He ripped it off, and stared at a very nice red and black coat with gold on it. He stared at it for a it, then pulled out another piece of plastic. After ripping that off, he saw the poofy blouse. On a simple whim, he carefully hung the two articles of clothing back up on the rack, then shrug off the superman shirt he was currently wearing. He took the blouse, slipping it on and admiring how silky it felt gliding across his skin. The coat was next, and it would be followed by whatever else was in the last remaining piece of plastic. Ripping it off he saw it was a pair of black pants. They had a slightly Arabic touch to them, just a tad.

America slipped off his pants and put the others on. They felt loose, so he went off to try and find a belt to keep them up. He came across a little drawer, and upon opening it, he found a pair of gloves. America took them out and slipped them on. A little further in the drawer there was a belt. America took that out as well, using it to tie up his pants. Tied to the belt was a sash and America wondered what that was for. He looked around until he spotted two cutlasses hanging on a wall. Taking them down, he put them in the sash. Giving the room a look over, he spotted a pair of boots. He took off his shoes and replaced them with the boots. He tucked his pants in them, causing them to poof out a bit. After tying up his boots, and seeing no other articles of clothing, he decided he had finally finished his outfit...whatever it was.

America looked around and spotted a mirror to his left. It was absolutely coated in dust, so much so, that America had to repeatedly wipe it away, then wipe his hand on his superman shirt. Once he finally broke through the layers upon layers of the stuff, he was able to get a good look of himself. After giving himself a once over, America smiled a little.

"I guess I look...quite handsome..." he complimented himself. Although...something seemed familiar... He furrowed his eyebrows, then did a quick search on the internet.

After some three minutes, America finally recognized what he was reminded of. He had seen movies about this particular theme..what were they called? High Mates of the Siberian? Primeapes of the Cherry Tea Land?

"You look like you belong in bloody 'Pirates of the Caribbean'..." a voice came from behind. America whipped around and saw his Master leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and he had a smirk on his face. America recognized that smirk...the one that sent shivers down his spine. He unconsciously took a small step back, gulping a little. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it after not being able to come up with anything.

England's smirk grew and he asked, "What? Cat got your tongue?" America shook his head, and England pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered over to America. He sat down on the desk right in front of him, and crossed his legs. He swiped his finger over its dusty surface, rubbing the dust between his fingers, the smirk never leaving his face.

"You know who those clothes belong to?" England asked. America shook his head.

"Those clothes belonged to a notorious pirate, Captain Roberts Kirkland. He was my great great grandfather," England added, seeing the surprised look on America's face when he mentioned his great great grandfather's name. "He was the most feared pirate captain in all the seven seas. He passed on his legacy to my great grandfather, but after some time he gave up up. Worked as a carpenter the rest of his life. Now, Roberts Kirkland's outfit is a family heirloom. My great grandfather gave it to my grandfather, who gave it to my father, and then my father gave it to me. I would have thrown it away, but I simply adore pirates and the like, so I didn't have the heart to. I used to put it on all the time a few years ago, but then I forgot about it. Shame. It really does suit you though," England said, his hungry eyes flicking up and down America's clothed body.

America put all his attention to his Master's story, it wasn't everyday he'd get to hear about pirates or his Master's family. The thought of having a great great grandfather being on of the most feared pirates in the world was exciting. He was so busy imagining what Roberts Kirkland was like, that he didn't notice England's hungry gaze, nor when he started walking up to him until he suddenly felt a body bump into his. He jumped and backed up, nearly tripping over a chair.

"M-Master? Uhmm...Wh-Why are you standing so close?" America asked, blushing. He could feel the heat emanating from his Master's body, and couldn't figure out for the life of him why that sort of felt nice.

"Hmm? Am I standing close? Huh, I thought I wasn't standing close enough," England said, trailing his hand down America's jawline. America blinked, blushing even harder and was about to say something when England shot his hands up and started twirling his cowlick around his finger.

"E-Eep! M-Master...Wh-What a-are..Y-You..."

"Belt up please, Love. You look quite dashing in that outfit, however," England said with half lidded eyes while slowly taking the pirate hat off of America and placing it on his head, "...The hat is for the captain only. Oh, and so are the cutlasses..." Off with the belt.

"And the coat..." Off with the coat.

"Those boots are mine as well." Boots are off, and the pants are barely holding on. Seriously, they're really lose.

"Hmmm...I'm pretty sure that shirt is mine as well, but those pants look like they're about to fall off, so what harm can be done?" And now off with the─

* * *

England's eyes shot open as his body jerked forward causing him to nearly fall out of his bed. He panted and looked around the room, making sure he was in _his_ room and not some secret storage area.

"...England...It's three in the morning...what is it?" Flying Mint Bunny asked sleepily. England turned to him and asked, "What're...What are you still doing up?"

"I was sleeping on your tummy and then you just jerked up and flung me off..." he replied. England mumbled out an apology and laid back down on his bed. He took deep breathes and tried to calm himself down so that he could go back to sleep, push all those thoughts away about what almost happened in some imaginary storage room and close his eyes─

─And see images that couldn't be unseen.

"GAH!" England once again jerked up, rubbing his cheeks and trying desperately to get them to cool down. After being flung off again, Flying Mint Bunny grumbled and flew to sleep on Uni's tummy instead. England paid him to mind and shook his head. All the head shaking made him dizzy and he blinked, but every time he blinked another image would appear, making his cheeks flare up even more and cause his neck and ears to burn as well.

"Guess I won't be getting any sleep tonight..." England grumbled. Letting out a frustrated groan, England flopped back down into bed and scowled up in the ceiling.

'_...Although I do want that pirate outfit now..._'

* * *

**DID YEW ENJOY THAT? ...Sucha hassle to type, seriously. So, who caught the Princess Bride Reference? Huh? Huh? Anybody? Hmmm? It was really easy so yeah. ...Whoever can point it out firt gets a little event of their choice to happen in the next chapter~ But please...make it Picnic-Related since...ya know...They're going on one n stuff...**

**And sorry, no fanservice. Can't type that to save my life...At least to that degree. Could barely type that extremely vague service in chapter 7. ...yep. **

**R&R N I'LL LOVE YEW FEREVER~ Flames burn the outfits, and no fanservice for chuu!  
**


	12. Soft, Warm, Comfortable Park Pillows

**IT'S OUT. AFTER TWO WEEKS. TOO. MANY. THINGS. THANK ARCEUS IT'S FINALLY SUMMER VACATION NOW! ;W; Urgh yesterday, this woulda been here..IF MY COUGH WOULDA JUS LET ME TYPE. IT'S LIKE, SERIOUSLY. I SPENT TWICE AS MUCH TIME WORKING ON THIS AS I DID COUGHING. AND I WAS COUGHING SO HARD, I STARTED THROWING UP WATER.**

**NOT. COOL.**

**Anyways, it's out! It's like...3k plus words right here! 3.1/3.3k. Yep. Longest chapter yet.** **I hope yew guys enjoy it! And gratz to PharaohsDarkness and rawrmobile on deviantArt for being the first ones to get the Princess Bride Reference! As you requested, I added some napping in this chapter, and something "cute" and "fluffy"~ So, who wants the reviews?:**

**artfan: from chapter 9- lol x33 yew dun't need emotions to have tastebuds and common sense~**

**Patrich11: Chapter 9- LOL! THAT. MADE. MY. DAY. XD Ahh, its his destiny huh? x33**

**Otakufever0627: Chapter 9- I'm so happy you love it! ;W; IT makes me feel so nice! ;w; and lol, yep. One taste of English cooking, and you'll gain an instinct to avoid it at all costs xD I hope yew enjoy this chapter!**

**PharaohsDarkness: YEW GOT EET RIGHT~! I added yer request in here, I hope it's satisfactory. :33**

**canada'sgirl: I really hope you like this chapter too! :D And..I kinda need help figuring out all the forums and stuff here...xD''**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this, it wouldn't be called _fan_fiction, now would it?**

* * *

"Hi, welcome to McDonald's. May I take your order?"

"Give me five bloody hamburgers, three bloody Big Macs, a McFish and a stupid bloody order of extra large french fries."

"Will that be all?"

"Will that─? Ugh, yes, of course that's all you bloody sodding wank─...Ha? What, NO, America, I will NOT get you a milkshake. No! America, I said N─"

"Master! I want that Milkshake. I absolutely do NOT trust anything you have touched."

"...That was mean...I didn't think you could be s-so c-cruel..."

"Uhm...Sir...? Are you alright? So...that's five cheeseburgers, three big Macs─"

"JUST GET MY BLOODY ORDER!"

"Ahem..."

"AND A BLOODY SODDING MILKSHAKE YOU BLOODY GIT SON OF A WANKER!" With that, England floored it and nearly drove out of the drive-in. He tossed who knows how much money in the order window, he was pretty sure it would cover the cost. He drove up and picked up his food, yanking it out of the person's hands and flooring it out of the drive through, making a sharp right turn onto the street, and speeding off leaving tire tracks in his wake. The order boy just stood there looking at the tire tracks, then rolled his eyes and mumbled out, "Tch...British." (1)

* * *

England let out a sigh of relief as he parked his car and stepped out to have a wonderfully nice breath of fresh park air. With a smile plastered on his face, he hummed as he took out all the picnic supplies he'd brought, completely forgetting his trip to McDonald's and perfectly content.

"So Master, how is it possible that you can even consume the food that you make?"

And there goes America and his amazing powers to ruin England's mood. Choosing to ignore the question and instead watch the various species of ducks and geese swim around in a quaint little pond in the center of the park, England set off to find a nice spot for their picnic. He found a nice spot within the shade of a big oak tree overlooking most of the park. He set down the basket and took the blanket tucked under his arms, setting it down upon the grass and smoothing it out. He took out the picnic basket's contents, placing them neatly on the blanket, then leaned back on his hands and heaving a content sigh. He didn't move when he heard the grass rustle next to him, instead choosing to keep his eyes closed and enjoy this moment of peace.

America stared at his Master set up the blanket, taking note of how it was smoothed down so that there wasn't a wrinkle anywhere. He kept watching even when his Master just sat there, enjoying the stillness of it all. He looked perfectly content with the world─and his smile, his _smile!_ It made America flare up with anger and jealousy and just raw hatred. He wanted nothing more than to be able to smile like that, not just copy what he saw on TV and in books, but smile naturally, like his Master was doing right now. How can he even smile like that? Like nothing was wrong? America unconsciously grabbed his injured arm, glaring at his Master and wanting nothing more than to toss him in the pond along with his picnic supplies as more images from that night rushed into his brain and his Master's smiling didn't help.

But then he remembered that his Master was drunk that night, and he never meant it. Was there ever a time his Master was abusive towards him save those few drunken nights? No, he wasn't. He was always kind (albeit horribly grumpy) and his face was always in a slight frown. America had only ever caught him smiling like that sparingly. Shaking his head, America cleared all negative thoughts away and tried to mimic the emotion he was certain his Master was feeling, but the closest he could get was apathy, just like always. It was frustrating and sad, but it would have to do for now.

America walked up to the picnic area and sat down on the blanket, placing the McDonald's bags on it and digging around for a Big Mac. Once his hands wrapped around that little piece of non-English cooking, he pulled it out and nearly swallowed the whole darn thing. He grabbed another and ate that, scarfing down some french fries as well. He continued this pattern and it remained unbroken except for when he slurped down his milkshake. All the noise he made while eating disturbed England's peace, causing said Brit to scowl and sigh, open his eyes, and watch in disgust as America practically inhaled his food. The rate at which he was consuming it was inhuman, and it made England want to throw up.

"Ugh..America, _please_ slow down! Are you even chewing─no, are you even _tasting_ the food? Good heavens lad, eat like a normal human being! We're not at home where you can do that─although I sill wouldn't appreciate it─we're in a park. With other humans. What will they think if they see you eating like that?" England scolded. America stopped with a McFish shoved in his mouth, then slowly chewed and swallowed it. He grumbled out an 'alright' and ate at an agonizingly slow pace (for him at least.) This earned a smile of approval from England, who reached for a plate of scones and chewed one happily. America looked around the park as he ate, deciding to watch and see what people did at parks.

He saw two blonde boys playing on the jungle gym, one looked like they were wearing a blue sailor's uniform, and he appeared to be spinning a steering wheel. The other one was trembling for some reason, but he had a smile on his face. America looked away from the smile and noticed two other blondes. One had a white cap and the other wore glasses and was quite...intimidating. Running around their feet was a little white dog.

'_..They must be keeping it as a pet. Hmmmm...I wonder...would that one pikachu be considered as a pet as well?_' America thought, remembering that one day when the little guy had been born after an accident in his Master's lab. America wondered where had wandered off too. He continued to look around and saw some guys playing soccer. America wondered how they could even tell who was on their team─ they were all wearing different jerseys. Well, except for two people, they had the same one on. Alfred could barely tell them apart, they had the same color hair and eyes, nothing seemed to be all that diff─oh wait, no, they had a small difference. They each had a strange curl protruding from the sides of their heads, but they faced different directions. America noticed there was a black haired man that wasn't playing with the others, he seemed to be to busy playing some sort of game on a...what were those called? America did a quick search on those contraptions...Oh! It was a Nintendo DSLite.

Looking around some more, he saw some people fishing in the pond. After watching the three fish with no luck whatsoever, America started to think the pond was devoid of fish, until he saw a girl successfully yank one out of the water. She had light brown skin from what he could tell, and her hair was dark brunette, almost black, but that could be due to the shade from the willow tree they were fishing under was from. He watched as she made what appeared to be a triumphant smile and the other two, both lighter skinned, looked like they were congratulating her. They talked for a bit, then she took the fish off the hook and placed it back in the pond. America looked around once more, studying people, trying to figure out how he should act here, before he finishing up his meal.

Unbeknown to America, England was watching him while he watched everybody else. He just couldn't help it, America was just so...so...Undeniably cute, adorable, attractive, and he most certainly was the handsomest person he'd ever seen. England blushed brightly, embarrassed that he had thought all of that. Since when had he turned into some mushy lovestruck girl? Shaking his head, he ate his sandwiches and drank some water, letting his blush die down, when he heard a faint 'meow'.

"Hmmm? America, did you hear that?" England ask, looking up at him. America was gazing up at a tree a meters away, his head tilted to the side. England ignored how cute that was and followed his gaze. At first, he didn't see anything, but then he noticed something white swish from a branch. He heard the meowing again and saw that the little white swish was what appeared to be a cat's tail. America got up and walked over to the tree, followed by England.

Upon closer look, they saw that it was indeed a cat's tail. Its owner was on the tree branch. The cat was facing up and meowing at another cat, who looked like it was clinging to the branch it was on for dear life. The poor thing was shaking, it's eyes shut closed and his already folded ears flattened on its head. His orange tail curled around the tree branch thinking maybe it would help him from falling off. The other cat continued to meow up at him, occasionally pawing at the air. His tail was raised, showing its white underbelly, although the top half was brown. The cat had a ruff of poofy brown fur around its neck, which would stick up slightly when it saw the other slip even by a fraction of an inch.

"Oh dear, are the poor things stuck in the tree?" England said, looking at them worriedly. He had grown up with cats, and the thought of one being in danger was heartbreaking to him. America saw England's face and felt guilt start to creep in. He did not like it when his Master was sad, it made him feel guilty─something America hated to feel─even if he didn't cause it. In an effort to get rid of the guilt, took a few steps back. England looked over at him curiously, but turned his attention back to the cats in the tree and yelled, "Don't worry! I'll get you two down from─"

He was cut off when he felt a whoosh go by and heard the sudden screeching of a cat. Wide-eyed, he looked up to see America yanking the terrified cat off the tree branch, cradling it in his arms as he jumped back down onto the earth, grabbing the other cat while he fell. He landed gracefully on his feet, unfazed by the struggling cats.

"...there..." England finished dumbly. He looked at the two cats in cradled in America's arms. The one that had been stuck had an orange spot around its green eyes and one on its rump. Another notable thing were the eyebrows...which were quite similar to England's. '_...Although mine are nice and trimmed..._' Now that he got a better look at the other one, he saw that the one with the neck ruff also had blue eyes and marks on its face that looked sort of like glasses. It was also slightly chubby...It sorta reminded him of Ame─

"OW!" America yelled. He dropped the cat and held his arm while trying to keep the orange and white one held. The chubby one stood in front of America and hissed loudly, its fur standing on edge. It was glaring up at America, then it switched its gaze to its friend, seeming to ask it why it didn't jump down yet. The orange one stared down at his friend, then turned to look at America's arm. England did as well, and gasped when he saw a red blotch starting to grow quickly on America's shirt.

"Oh my gosh! are you alright, America?" England yelled, rushing over to him. The first cat hissed as England ran by, but he paid it no mind. The orange cat was licking the soon-to-be stain, thinking that it might help. England moved his head away, rolling up America's sleeve. The sight shocked him and he let out a gasp.

America's arm was black and blue, scabbed all over, and some cuts look like they didn't even start to scab over yet. Not only was England in shock, but he was also angry. Angry at whoever did that to the boy, surely it couldn't have been this morning's fall, or the single scratch from that cat. Maybe the fairies had done it? They didn't really seem to like the people Arthur loved, especially if the person couldn't see them...

England shook his head. '_I can ask him about his arm later, right now I have to take care of that scratch,_' he thought. The scratch itself wasn't very deep, but it went through many cuts and ripped off some scars, causing the old wounds to bleed again along with the scratch. He looked up at America, shocked even more by how his face looked. America's face was pale, his eyes wide and panicked, and his mouth was open in an 'o'. He kept looking at the blood and cuts, then to England, his face growing more and more fearful. It killed England to see America so scared.

"Hold on America, I'll go get you some bandages!" England said, running back to their picnic blanket. He searched through the picnic basket until he found a mini first-aide kit─hey, one could never be too careful.

He rushed back over to the American who had fallen onto his knees. England pushed the chubby cat out of the way to keep him from swatting at the arm that America was still holding the orange one in, then proceeding to clean and bandage America's arm. The orange cat meowed softly, comfortingly, then placed his paw on America's cheek. America turned to look at it, then slowly found himself calming down. That's right, they're in the park, not a bedroom, England is _healing_ his wounds, not causing them. He's not being slammed into a mattress, it's alright. He soon was back to his neutral self.

England finished bandaging America's arm, then tied a little knot around it. "There," he said, "That should take care of it. Gave me quite a scare there, America, it was bleeding a lot." England glared down at the cat on the floor, mumbling, "That was quite rude of you." He held out his hand, which America grabbed and used to hoist himself back up. As soon as their hands touched, England felt a little spark travel from his fingers all throughout his body, filling him with such a soft and gentle warmth. He blushed, pulling his hand out and holding it to his chest. Facing the other direction he said, "Yes well...that was quite...and excitement. How about we go back to our picnic?"

"Ok, Master. Let me first put the cat down, his friend is swatting my pants, it seems as though it doesn't appreciate that I'm still holding him," America replied. He placed the orange cat on the ground gently, jerking his hands away from the chubby cat's claws. As they started to walk towards their blanket, America heard something follow him. He turned around and saw the orange cat following him, meowing desperately. England had turned as well, and a gentle smile spread across his lips.

"Aww, it seems to have taken a fancy towards you, America," England stated. He looked a little farther back and saw his companion staring at it incredulously, its gaze shifting to glare at the American who was now picking his friend up.

"Master, what should we do? We cannot leave it here, it would just follow us home. I see no collar, so I'm assuming it's a stray. Should we give it to a shelter?" America inquired. England looked at the cat who seemed to comprehend the situation, and was looking at England with...where those puppy dog eyes!

"...I guess there is no helping it. We'll keep it," England said, walking over to pet the cat. It looked at England with a some-what annoyed expression, but let his head be pat. Somewhat put off by the cat's behavior, England stopped stroking his head and instead pouted. He walked the rest of the way back to the picnic blanket, sat down, and leaned against the tree that was right next to it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe, enjoying the peacefulness. He didn't notice when he started to doze off, and soon he was napping peacefully against the tilted his head, wondering what his Master was doing, but decided that if his Master did it, then he should copy.

He too leaned against the tree, his new cat cuddling against his chest. He felt it start to vibrate and opened his eyes to stare at it. He did another quick search, then found out that it was purring. America closed his eyes again. He heard something walk through the grass and was about to open his eyes when he felt a ball of warmth settle itself on his stomach, cuddling up neck to America's cat. Figuring it was the cat's friend, America kept his eyes closed. The other cat didn't purr, but it decided to take a nap on America's tummy. The warmth of the two cats, plus the purring of his, was enough to lull America into Power Save mode.

* * *

The first thing England noticed when he started to wake up, was that he was waking up. '_Funny, I don't remember falling asleep, and on something warm too..._' He made a content sound and snuggled more into the delicious warmth that was radiating off whatever he was sleeping on. It was soft too, his arms hugging whatever it was. He hugged it closer, nuzzling his head into the soft pillow-like thing...

...Which is not supposed to be in a park...

England's eyes snapped open. His head jerked so fast that he was surprised he didn't have whiplash. The soft, warm pillow thing he was snuggling into was actually somebody's chest. England's eyes trailed up until he saw a face, with glasses, and blonde hair. Normally, England would flush, jerk away, and pretend that never happened, but seeing America's face so peaceful, albeit neutral like always, made England feel...happy. Looking around, he saw it was around sunset, and not many others were still at the park.

'_...A little more time like this wouldn't hurt anybody...another ten, twenty minutes. It's not _too_ dark, and nobody else is really here...What harm could come out of this?_' England thought, gently laying his head back down on America's chest. He felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and a smile spread across his face.

Once again, England drifted off.

* * *

**(1) All those British slang words in der...It just proves how annoyed Iggy is...and how he doesn't want to repeat the 'incident' ...who KNOWS what he would do this time? *eyebrow waggle***

**I. HOPE. YEW. GUYS. ENJOYED. EET.**

**'tis be the labor of my sickness, research, and busy last 2 weeks of school. ;w;**

**R&R and I hope yew guys go on picnics soon! Constructive critisism always welcome, and flames will actually help me heat up this tea I'm supposed to drink for my cough...but please don't leae them. I hate tea enough as it is...Sorry Iggy and all yew tea lovers our there! :w;**

**...**

**although Chai tea is quite delicious...  
**


	13. An aloe for grief, a Cyprus for Sorrow

**ARGH. I AM SO. SORRY. IDUNNO WHAT HAPPENED. Like, the first week I missed the update, it was because I was being an idiot and thought that it was Friday...AND I STILL DIDN'T UPDATE, WHAT THE HECK? ;A; the next week, IDUNNO ;W; IT JUST...DIDN'T..COME...**

**URGH, I'M SO SORRY. ;W; BUT ANYWAYS, HERE IT IS. CHAPTER 11. DUN WORRY GUYS, I'M TRYING MY HARDEST TO CATCH UP WITH 2 WEEKS' WORTH OF LATENESS ;W;**

**er...**

**is this chapter Light M fer implied things?**

**oh, and on an unrelated note, I'm gunna be starting another Hetalia AU USUK fic. DUN'T WORRY.**

**IT WON'T BE UPDATED UNTIL _AFTER_ AFAH IS UPDATED.**

**It'll be a Pokétalia thing, wiff Lugia!Arthur and Trainer!Alfred.**

**dun worry...**

**the Pokémon can turn human...**

**...**

**I love them Gijinkas.**

**ANYWAYS.**

**ENJOY.**

**Reviews:**

**PharoahsDarkness: yus, sleep-cuddling is very important~ and them kittens. I couldn't resist.**

**vampiregirl878: IT WAS TO IRRESISTIBLE TO NOT WRITE. I HAD TO. I NEEDED TO.**

**artfan: I'm glad yew found it cute~! :D**

**Otakufever0627: Lol, I'm glad yew love the kittens~ and having SlightlyPossessive!Americat was a guilty pleasure fer me xD ...kitteh luff~**

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THIS NOW READ IT.**

* * *

England slowly opened his eyes, but shut them immediately as they were met with one obnoxious ray of light. Grumbling, he pulled the covers over his head and decided to sleep in for the day.

'_Wait..._'

Still half-asleep, he sat up in his bed, wondering why he wasn't in the park snuggling up against America's chest...

"..Best not mention that to America..." England said aloud, rubbing his slowly warming cheeks. America must have carried him back, he figured. Yawning, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and slowly stripped to take a shower. The shower helped wake him up, but it also helped wash out all the grime he might have accumulated yesterday. After he finished, he grabbed a towel and dried his hair until it stopped dripping, letting it air-dry from there. He wrapped the towel around his waist and went to his room and picked out a nice forest green sweatervest, a white button up-shirt, brown slack and shoes. He semi-combed his hair like always, and gave up like always when he realized he'll never suceed in taming it. Once he was all freshened up, he headed downstairs.

He walked into the living room and paused, looking at the sight before him. America was asleep on the couch all the way on the other side of the room, but that wasn't what concerned him. He was concerned about the _cat_ that was swiping at his arm. He rushed over and picked it up, turning it around so that it faced him.

"No! Bad! Don't you _dare_ hurt that child! I don't know what he did to get on your bad side, but as of now you are under my house, and you follow my rules! Hurting _him_ is most certainly against those rules!" England scolded. The cat looked at him with its big blue eyes and then stuck its tongue out at him and swiped his arm. England yelped, grabbing his arm and staring at the welt he now had. '_At least it's not bleeding..._' England thought. He turned his attention back to America, drinking in his sleeping face again. Oh, how he loved it, it made him seem like a sleeping angel, especially now with the sun's morning rays bouncing off his golden hair and making it sort of glow.

The illusion was dissolved when he saw the scratches and cuts that still marred America's face. Now that England thought about it, that fall yesterday couldn't have caused some of the deeper cuts...

He felt something tug at his heart, followed by a vage feeling of regret which he didn't really understand. Regret for what exactly? He tried to come up with an answer, he was right about to come up with it, but a meow made him lose his train of thought. He looked down to see the orange cat looking─no, was he _glaring_ at him.

"What's your problem?" England asked, glaring back. The cat flicked it's tail in annoyance, it looked England up and down, his tail flicking more and his ear twitching. After a few minutes, the cat stood on all fours, turned around, and jumped onto America's chest, making itself comfortable and curling up for a nap. England's eye twitched in annoyance. '_What was that all about...?_' England thought. Sighing, he decided that it would be a waste of his time to figure it out, and proceeded to the kitchen to make breakfast. He took out all the ingredients needed, making a mental note to buy catfood later. For now, fish would have to do.

* * *

"Ah, Mon cher, so glad you could make it!"

America looked up from the floor, was he having another dream? He took a look around, eyeing his surroundings. It was a beautiful medow filled with flowers of every color imaginable. Red tulips and roses, the drastic colors of the passion flower, simple white of a tuberose, and many many more.

"Romantic, non? I picked out the flowers especially for _you~_" the man said. America wanted to know his know so he could have something to call him by, but he never revealed it.

"Red tulips and Roses for the love I have for you, the passion flower for the passion which I love you with, the tuberose to show how pleasurable it would be to be with me," he explained, picking a tuberose and twirling it in his fingers. His eyes traveled over the flowers before they landed on a yellow rose. He picked it, ignoring when the thorns pricked his skin. Looking directly at America, he said, "Yellow roses for extreme betrayel..."

Tilting his head to the side, America watched as he picked two other flowers.

"An aloe, for grief, a Cypress for sorrow."

America was confused, is that how the man felt? Wasn't he just telling him about love and all those other feelings he didn't want? Although...something about those flowers seemed familiar...

"Lavenders for distrust, a Marigold for pain and grief. Black roses for hatred, Adonis for sad memories, apocynums for doubts..."

France paused when he picked up a small yellow and red flower. He searched for more, and picked as many as he could find. After he had picked what he thought was enough, he started to weave them together until he had a sort of crown. Smiling, he walked over and placed it on America's head, before taking one step back and saying,

"Bird's-foot Trefoil for revenge."

And it suddenly hit him.

America stood there, wide-eyed, his mouth agape. He stared at the blonde man who constantly appeared in his mind. Right when he was about to ask how he knew things even _he himself_ didn't know, the scenery changed to something completely different.

America looked around to try and find a clue where he was, but he froze when his eyes landed on somethign that would have given him nightmares if he could have them.

"So you've come back for more, America~?"

America started panicking, his eyes widening in sheer terror. He tried to back away only to find himself restricted by chains. Adrenaline started to pump through his veins and he thrashed about wildly, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.

"Aww, don't do that, dear, you'll end up hurting yourself~"

He was coming closer. Oh no, he was coming closer. The raw fear that this man created in America paralyzed him, making him unable to breathe. Suddenly, his vision was cut off, and he felt something being tied around his head.

"This makes everything more fun, love!~"

America's heart thumped at an impossible rate, now hyperventilating instead of suffocating. He felts a pair of arms snake around his torse until they locked him in a firm hug. He could do nothing to stop those hands from unbottoning his shirt, nor that tongue from trailing down his skin.

"Don't worry love, this time will be _extra_ fun...~"

America screamed.

* * *

England stopped whatever he was doing and ran into the living room. It didn't occur to him that leaving the stove on may cause a fire, all that mattered was that horrible shriek he had heard. He sprinted into the living room to see that the orange cat had jumped off America's chest and bolted past England out of the room. England rushed to America's side and was shocked to see the tears streaming down his face. Worried that he may have gotten injured, England proceeded to shak him.

"America! America, are you okay? Did anything happen? Why are you crying? America?"

At the sound of his voice, America's eyes flew open. They looked at him with what could only be described as raw and animalistic terror. America bolted away from England and to the opposite wall of the room. His eyes looked everywhere desperately, trying to find some way out. His entire body was shaking, and soon his legs gave out on him. He collapsed to the floor and curled up into a ball, cradeling his ead and sobbing.

Just looking at America shattered England's heart and made him scared. What had happened to him? Why was he looking at him like that? _Why was he so scared?_

"A-America...? America, are you alright?" England asked gently, trying to keep a level head. He slowly walked to America and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The response was almost immediate.

America's head whipped up and he screamed, scampering into the nearest corner. He was shaking so badly now, and his shirt was quickly being stained by tears. Suddenly, England managed to hear a couple strangled words.

"D-Don't...Don't..h-hurt..m-me..."

"What..? no, I would never hurt you, America!"

"P-Please..n-no...more...!"

He was looking at England now, and his expression tore through England's heart. It looked so betrayed, so grief-stricken.

"I don't...like...i-i-it!" America choked out, burying his face in his knees. This whole thing was brining tears to England's eyes, he just couldn't take it anymore. He went over to America's side and hug him. Hug him for all he was worth.

"Shh, shh. It's alright, it's alright. I would never hurt you, America. It's okay, your safe as long as your with me, nothing can hurt you. Please, _please_ stop crying...I-It's not very...very manly to c-cry..." England said, his own tears starting to fall when America's sobs didn't stop.

America was scared, scared of England, scared of his 'nightmare', scared that it might happen in the near future. So when England hugged him, he nearly bolted through the wall. The only thing that stopped him was England's words. They were true, _England_ would never hurt him. Never abuse him...

He clung onto England's shirt and sobbed. He sobbed until his body couldn't make any more tears for him to cry out. England ran a hand through his hair and continued to tell him everything was okay and whatever had scared him was gone now. Soon, America was back to his nuetral self, and he got up, apologizing for making such a mess. The smoke detector suddenly went off, and they both rushed into the kitchen to see coal burning in a frying pan England blushed, and ran to put out the fire, while America just stood there watching and trying to keep himself from making a remark about his Master's horrible food. All the while, he couldn't help but think about what England had said.

_ "Don't worry, the scary thing's gone now, you don't have to cry. Don't be scared, I'll never hurt you..."_

America let out a small sardonic chuckle. He smirked a darkly as he thought,

'_It's not nice to lie, Master._'

* * *

**I AM SO SORRY.**

**I GO ON HAITUS/WRITER'SBLOCK/IDUNNOWHATTHEHECKHAPPENED FER 2 WEEKS AND I BOMBARD YEW WIFF ANGST? ;A;**

**...**

**well it's gunna be angsty fer here on in.**

**Jus' warnin yew guys.**

**...**

**and some fluff here in there so yew dun drown before this story is over...**

**Anyways, R&R and get me motivated to write the other 2 chapters I owe yew guys! ;W;**

**Constructive Criticism welcome.**

**FLAMERS:**

**Y U NO WASTE TIME ELSEWHERE?**


	14. Omake Thing: Your Mouth Says 'No' but

**ANYTHING FOR A HEART CHAPTER 11.5 PART ONE~**

**Why, bambi, is it "Part 1"?**  
**Well I'll tell ya!**  
**NO, I WAS NOT LAZY AND DECIDED TO SPLIT THIS UP INTO 2/3 PARTS! ...It was merely because of the two/three big scenes it will take..this is merely one of them.**  
**...**  
**Oh yeah...**  
**And I was kinda lazy. **

**...**

**OH BUT ANYWAYS~~**

**YEW GUYSSS! ;A;**

**I MISSED YOU!**

**YEW DUN EVEN KNOW! ;A;)/**

**Seriously, I had this omake and CHp. 12 on dA for a week. A WEEK. I can't believe i never posted them here! ;A;)/**

**I FEEL SO HORRIBLE.**

**But yew guys get a special treat~**

**two updates tonight gaiz~!**

**Liek, totallay!**

**Disclaimer: NU, I DUN OWN IT. I DUN EVEN OWN A CAT.**

* * *

_Sniff._

Sniff Sniff.

...  
Sniff Sniff SNIF─

"WOULD YOU STOP THAT SNIFFING ALREADY?" Nag nag nag. Is that all he ever does?

"Buuuut Iggy! Don't tell me that that trashcan over there isn't giving off the AWESOMEST MOST WONDERFULLY DELICIOUS smell you've ever smelt!" I said, licking my jaws and trying my best to keep myself from drooling. Iggy scratched the back of my head, causing me to let out a hiss of pain and said, "No, it just smells like garbage. And not the good smelling garbage, the inedible garbage. Now hurry up, maybe that kind lad at the bakery will give us some food."

"THAT'S A BRITISH BAKERY. I'M NOT EATING THERE!" I yelled, diving into the trashcan in desparation, toppling it over and spilling out all of its contents. After some thorough searching, I found the morsel that caught my nose...A McFish.

'_It's beautiful..._'

I swear, I had tears in my eyes as I knelt down to take a big whiff of it. Just as I was about to take a huge bite, some teenager came out of the back door.

"Hey! You knocked over the trashcan, NOT COOL. Go on, shoo! And take your─...Oh my gosh...Those eyebrows...GET AWAY FROM HERE. I ALREADY HAD ENOUGH OF THAT GUY TODAY. SHOO! GO, LEAVE, SCRAM!" he yelled, grabbing the lid of the trashcan and smacking my side. I hissed, then tried scratching his arm, but Iggy whacked my face with his tail. And when Iggy whacks your with his tail, your better leave or you'll end up in the vet's for life. Poor Spanish kitty...

* * *

Ah, the great outdoors. Living as a stray sure has its advantages. For one, your don't have some Master telling you you can't scratch this, or you can't pee there. You can eat whatever you want, and not get sprayed by water. Even better, now I have a buddie to share life with~

"Alfie, I _really_do not want to go to the park today. Last time we went we nearly got ourselves killed trying to cross the road!"

...Now if only he didn't complain so much.

"Don't worry, I got a full proof plan now!" I said, flashing a heroic smile. Iggy rolled his eyes, but followed anyways. He was going to be soooo impressed by how smart I was~ Even HE would have never thought of this! We walked until we came upon a thick pole. I smiled again and Iggy just looked at me dubiously. I just sat there smiling, flicking my tail and looking around waiting for somebody to show up.

After some five minutes of nobody appearing, Iggy sighed and asked, "Alfie, I've been wanting to ask this for the past ten min─"

"It's only been five minutes!"

"...For the past _five_minutes, but why are we waiting next to this pole?" he finished. I let out a frustrated sigh and turned to look at him.

"We're waiting for somebody to come and push that putton up there on the pole!" I explained, pointing to said yellow button. Iggy looked up and it confusedly, then just shook his head. '_He probably thinks that this isn't a very special button..._' I thought, pouting. Another five minutes passed and I layed down on all fours, still looking around for somebody who might be walking this way. Iggy had started to bathe himself a few minutes ago...and he's so picky about food. Doesn't he know how much grime he's licking off his coat and onto his tongue? Right when I was about to voice that fact though, I heard footsteps.

Excited, I looked up and saw a man with a bandaide over his nose. He was accompanied by a man with hair that swirls into what looked like a...a cinomman bun...Mmmmm..cinnoman buns...They're so sticky and deli─WHOA. LOOK AT THEIR EYEBROWS!

"Hey Hey Iggy! Take a look at their eyebrows! They look like yours!" I said, pawing his shoulder. Iggy looked up at them, eyes widening a bit at the realization that they indeed had eyebrows similar to his.

"By golly, your right..."

"Maybe one of them is your human body guy!" I said excitedly. My mother always told me that every animal had their human counterpart, even if they looked nothing like them. Cats and dogs were special, and their humans looked like them.

Iggy just scoffed and said, "Those stories again? Alfie, I told you, those are just the tales that queens(1) tell their kittens to keep them entertained. I can't believe you still believe in them..."

I pouted, sticking out my tongue at him. Mom's stories are always true...

"Hey Bruce, remind me why we're walking to the park again," the guy with the cinnoman bun hair asked. 'Bruce' smiled and responded saying, "We're going to meet Chellie remember? She said something about fishing."

"Yes, but I don't see why you had to go and invite me along. You know that I don't know Chelle very much," Cinnoman Bun Guy said, pushing the─ YES! HE PUSHED THE BUTTON!

"IGGY! THE CINNOMAN BUN GUY PUSHED THE BUTTON! Watch, we'll be at the park in less than a minute, and not a single scratch on us!" I yelled happily. Before Iggy could respond, the two guys looked at us.

"Awww, look at the kitties, Aiden! They're so cute~! Hey, that one has my eyebrows!" Bruce said. Cinno..er..'Aiden?' smiled a little and said, "Yes Bruce, those are cats. We see them everyday, and yes that one has our eyebrows. It's kinda cute, but if we're going to meet Chelle at the park we have to hurry, look, the sign's telling us to walk."

Bruce seemed to deflate a little, but returned to his cheery self, "Your right! Can't have Chellie waiting on us now can we? Goodbye little guys!"

The two guys started walking down the street, and I quickly batted Iggy's head, "Hurry! We hafta cross with them or we'll be stuck waiting for another person!" And ignoring Iggy's cries of 'WE'LL GET OURSELVES KILLED CROSSING THE STREET!' I ran past Bruce and Aiden, all the way to the safety of park grass, not a single car having come anywhere NEAR my awesomely fluffy fur. Iggy stared at me in awe, but then snapped out of it and started running down the street too, I smiled, and gave him a pat on the back when he joined me on the soft park grass.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" I said, puffing my chest out proudly. Iggy sighed and twitched his tail in annoyance, "I can't believe you were right. It's a miracle."

Ignoring that, i looked around the park to see what we could do. Okay, there were some guys playing with a black and white ball of yarn...

"I'm not going to go over there and play footbal with humans, git. And no, it's a football, not a ball of yarn."

"..."

"WHOA, IGGY, YOU CAN READ THOUGHTS?" I yelled excitedly. England's tail twitched again and he started, "No, you were just mumbling to yo─"

"Okay! What am I thinking right now?" I cut him off, wagging my tail. ...Wait, why am I wagging my tail? I'm not a dog. Iggy rolled his eyes and said, "Your wondering why your wagging your tail. The answer: Your as unsophisticated as a common mutt."

"HEY!"

"Why don't we just go over to that nice lookin playground over there?" Iggy asked, lifting up a paw and pointing to the direction of the playground. I turned to look at it and my eyes lit up at what I saw. They had a three story slide, merry-go-round, swings, bridges, rock climbing stuff, and...

...Oh man...

"Hey Iggy, why don't we just go play soccer instead?" I said, trying to steer him away from the playground before he saw that. If he did, my life would be over. I'd be dead by the end of the day. He turned to me raising an eyebrow and frowning, "First of all, it's called football, not soccer. Second, why the sudden change in mood, Alfie?" He tried to turn back to look in the playground, but I covered his eyes with my tail and grabbed his neck in my teeth, forcibly dragging him away.

"Hey, Alfie, quit it! No, I said let go! OW, ALFIE, THAT HURTS!" He hissed out, scratching my head. I grunted a little, but didn't let go. Now, he was scratching my neck ruff. Ha! That wouldn't hurt a bit! My neck ruff is too poofy to penetra─_Purrrrrrrrr~_

"How does that feel? Does it feel nice, Alfie?" Iggy asked, licking underneath his chin. I didn't answer, but continued my purring. My eyes where half-closed in content and my tail was up in the air, the tip swishing back and forth. Iggy smirked at this and said, "You know...If you let me go I may be able to groom behind your ears as well."

I immediately released Iggy's neck and he sighed in relief. Then, he turned back to me and started to groom his ears. My eyes were clossed in bliss and I leaned towards England's tongue, letting him be able to groom me easier. I continued his purring, not even noticing when Iggy stopped grooming me and started to walk towards the playground. It wasn't until England's paws hit the woodchips did I realize Iggy had stopped.

"Mmmm~, why'd ya stop, Iggy?" I asked lazily, opening my eyes a little and looking at the grass where my companion was just a few seconds ago. My eyes widened as he turned to see Iggy walk up to the thing I was hoping that he wouldn't see. I've been tricked! Not awesome, and _definately_not heroic!

"Wait! Iggy, STOP!" I yelled, running as fast as I could to try and tackle Iggy before he managed to process what it was. Sadly, it was too late. By the time I got there, Iggy already had that smirk on his face and that glint in his eye. He turned to me and said, "Cabin boy, why were ye tryin' ta steer me away from such a lovely ship?"

I sighed. Seriously, it was just a ship steering wheel with a plastic Jolly Roger attached to a pole right next to it. I turned to Iggy and said, "Iggy, jus because your great, great, however many greats, grandfather was a famous pirate's cat, does _not_mean you are one!" Iggy just scoffed and flicked his tail in my face, "Whatever, Cabin boy. Come on, we're going to see what this facility can offer us."

I groaned. Iggy's pirate mode was so annoying and spoke in big words that I couldn't understand.

"CABIN BOY! NEED I HAVE TO SEDUCE YOU TO GET YOU TO COME OVER HERE?"

"Oh please don't. I'm coming already!" I yelled, bounding over to him. He had a smug smirk on his face again. Oh, I really hate that stupid, uncharacteristic...sexy smirk of his.

"Your mouth says 'no' but your purs said otherwise."

"...Ugh! L-Let's just get this over with!" I yelled, climbing up the stairs into the 'ship'.

* * *

**(1) Queens is the official term for a mother cat :D**

**Well, we see them kitties again! And Pirate!Neko!UK!**

So yeah, what inspired the grooming part?  
Well, i was with my mom at her work and her boss owned this cat. And I would always scratch it. and it would always purr. And if it was standing at the moment it would lean down to get a better scratch and it would say down too. He'd rub up against my hand and if i took it away, he's walk towards it and rub up against it all like: "Oi. I nu done yet. Scratch me more please~~"

So yeah...

ALFIE POV~  
Genius names, No?  
Sorry, no france this chapter. He gunna be in the next few though, dun worry.  



	15. A Couple Shots Couldn't Hurt, Right?

**ALRIGHTEH~ NUTHIN MUCH TO SAY HERE~~**

**Reviews:**

**Christain: France gone done it. He made poor Meri insane. (okey not rly but still ;w; he's messin wiff him a lot)**

**vampiregirl878: Uh-huh. ;w;**

**artfan: lol, yep! France is a sadistic sadistic little boy he is. ...And ya know, he wants to speed things up a little~**

**Otakufever0267: POOR MERI. ;W; WE SHOULD BAN ALCOHOL IN ENGLAND. ...But then again where would the story be if we did that~?**

**SakuraDrops141: OH, CHUU BET HE WILL! :D**

**Sparrow44124: WELL HERE THEY AREEE~~**

**Dis at bottom**

* * *

_July 30, 2011_

It had been a week since America's little episode, and so far things were going smoothly, although I couldn't help but notice his somewhat sluggish movements now. He also always wears that small frown or look of sadness... Even though he hasn't felt happiness he was always at least apathetic about everything. I can't help but wonder if something's wrong...

England groaned and let his head fall back and hit the headboard. Of course something was wrong. He sighed and looked down at his journal page. He frowned at the amount he had written, not happy with how small it was. Unfortunately, he couldn't really think of anything else to say, so he begrudgingly put it away. Frowning, he stared up at his ceiling, arms cradling his head. '_That git...making me worry..._'

"Meeeow~!"

England looked down at Alfie, the big American longhair. He let out a soft chuckle, remembering how this cat got its name. He had been talking about Alfred the Great and the cat had immediately meowed at the name. America suggested naming him that, but England was against giving it such a great name, but said that he would call him Alfie. The cat had immediately meowed again and rubbed against England's legs purring. The Scottish Fold on the other hand was named on a whim.

England had extremely bored and decided to go on Google Translate. He was looking for languages to translate to, then thought of his Japanese friend, Kiku. He shrugged and started to translate things into Japanese, and when coming upon the Japanese translation of 'England' he raised an eyebrow. He tried pronouncing it, but it came out a garbled mess that sounded like 'Iggy'. The Scottish Fold had immdediately walked into the room and stared up at England expectantly. Ever since, the two were known as Alfie and Iggy.

"MREOWWWW!"

"GAH! GET OFF!"

After picking up the heavy feline and placing him on the ground, England pat his chest. That cat's weight was enough to knock the wind out of him. Alfie meowed again, and England sighed.

"Fine fine, I'll get you some food, just hold on," he said, getting off the bed. Really, he had fed him around an hour ago and he wanted more?

As England wandered into the kitchen he passed America's room. He paused when he heard America talking. Raising an eyebrow, he turned towards the door and reached for the nob, but decided against it. '_Maybe he's finally seeing the fairies..._' England thought with a smile. He walked into the kitchen, opening the cupboard of cat food and taking out a can of Hamburger Harmony flavored Neko Neko Nya(1).

...Really how they come up with the flavors or their names was beyond him, but Alfie seemed to only eat the flavor so whatever.

England opened up the can and quickly placed the meat in Alfie's food bowl before the cat could maul him like last time. He took three steps back just to be safe, Alfie however paid to mind as he attacked─literally, he _attacked_─the dead and probably processed cow.

England sighed and was about to walk back to his room when the kitchen phone rang. He walked over to it, checking the caller ID and groaned.

"Dare I ask, to who do I owe the horror of this call to?" England said, hoping maybe somebody had stolen his phone, and it wasn't really HIM.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Didn't yer mháthair teach ya any manners, Dheartáir beag?" a gruff voice through the phone. Arthur swore he could smell the alcohol through the reciever. He scrunched his nose up in disgust and snapped, "As a matter of fact, yes, _our_ mother did teach me some manners! I don't know if the same goes for you three oafs. And please, speak English."

"Haha! Haven't gotten rid of your spunk have ye, deartháir? Old habits die hard, eh?" the man laughed. England scowled and yelled, "OH FOR PETE'S SAKE, ANGUS, SHUT UP WITH THE IRISH. WHY DID EIREEN EVEN TEACH YOU THAT LANGUAGE ANYWAYS!"

"Oi! Don't go forsaking the language of our sinsears! Mháthair wouldn't have appreciated that, Arthur," Angus said. England froze, and the atmosphere in the room changed. It now emited such an acute sense of rage. Even Alfie had stopped eating and looked up at England, before slowly getting up and hurrying out of the room. This went unnoticed by the Brit, who was slowly trying to breathe in and out. Finally, he had composed himself enough to respond.

"Angus, I've already told you this before, I'm not sure if you listened the first time but I will tell you again. My name is England. Arthur is somebody else," he explained, his voice surprisingly steady. He heard a sigh come from the other side of the telephone.

"Arthur─"

"England."

"..._England_. I'm sorry about what happened, but you have to let it go. _Ní raibh sé i gceist a bheith_," Angus said. England didn't respond, and Angus sighed.

"Cibé. Have it your way. Anyways, I'll be coming over later today, Daidí sent me out of the house and I'll need a place to stay. I'll see you soon, Sasana," Angus said, hanging up before England could protest. He listened to the beeps indicating that the call had ended for a few minutes, before sighing and hanging up the phone again. That conversation had brought up some unwanted memories that he had managed to repress. Well, only one thing to do now.

England walked up the stairs and towards his room, going straight for his alcohol. Just enough to give him a slight buzz, make him a little tipsy. He didn't want to get drunk though, if Angus was going to be here sometime today. Who knows what embarrassing things his brother would manage to get out of him if he were drunk. He took out some good old Bombay Sapphire and a shot glass. Three shots should be enough...

"ENGLAND! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Ellina screeched, flitting over to England who currently had the shot glass lifted up to his lips. He raised his eyebrow and responded with, "Don't worry, it'll just be a couple of shots. I won't ge drunk, I promise."

"No, England, you shouldn't even be touching alcohol! It's not good!" she said, grabbing hold of his wrist and trying to tug it down. England sighed and said, "Look, I know it troubles you and Stella do have to care for me when I have a hangover, but I'm only having a couple of shots. I just..need this, alright?"

Ellina studied England, trying to decide whether or not she should let him. After all... She glanced towards America's room and bit her little lip. America still hasn't recovered...from what she could tell with his conversations with... She glanced back at England. She looked into his eyes, ones filled with sadness and...A few shots wouldn't hurt...right?

"...Alright, but once I think you've had enough I'm taking it away," Ellina said. England gave her a thankful smile before downing the shot. Ellina sighed and sat on England's head repriminding him for using alcohol as a means to get away, even if it was just a couple shots. After around three or for shots, Ellina jumped off his head.

"Alright mister, you've had your shots. No more," she commanded, taking the shot glas and putting it on a shelf, out of reach. She called Flying Mint Bunny to help her put the Bombay Sapphire up high too.

England felt positively great. He could still think straight, was slightly dizzy, but had that fuzzyness that felt good somehow. Letting out a sigh of content, he flopped down onto his bed and mumbled, "Tell America he'll hafta make his own food..Ima take a nap...b'fore Angus gets 'ere..."

Ellina and Flying Mint Bunny sighed.

"He can't see us Eng─Wait, who's coming now?" Flying Mint Bunny said. England however, did not respond. Instead he rolled over on his bed, breathing in and out asleep. Ellina groaned and turned to FMB.

"Angus is coming. Great," she sighed out.

"I'll go put away everything breakable," Flying Mint Bunny said as he flew away.

* * *

**1) Seriously, what do you guys want me to go with? Meow Mix? Saves me copyright disclaimers. w **

**SO YEAH~**  
**ANGUS MAKES A CAMEO~**  
**AND MORE LIGHT SHED ON ENGLAND'S PAST? ...Sorta. Pfff.**

**SO YEAH. IDUNNO ;A; DO THE SCOTTISH SPEAK IRISH? ;W; So yeah..that's Irish right der...hadda rely on google translate...Sorry to all Irish speakers who think that's horrible. ;w;**

**TRANS:**  
**Mháthair- Mother.**  
**Dheartáir beag- Little Brother**  
**Deartháir- Brother**  
**Sinsears- Ancestors**  
**Ní raibh sé i gceist a bheith- It was never meant to be.**  
**Cibé- Whatever.**  
**Daidí- Dad**  
**Sasana- England**

**LIKE I SAID. SORRY IF ANYTHING IS WRONG. ;W;**

**So yeah.**

**Disclaimer: NUTHIN. NU HETALIA ER MEOW MIX. I DUN EVEN OWN NEKO NEKO NYA AND I'M THE ONE WHO THOUGHT OF IT. ...UNLESS IT REALLY EXISTS. **


	16. Good Luck, Deartháir

**HEY YEW GUYS.**

**NUFUFU.**

**EVERYBODY'S *totallynotlazy* AUTHOR, BAMBI HERE~**

**ALRIGHT.**

**LET'S GO AND READ...**

**CHAAAPTERRRR THIRRRRTEEEEEEEN~!**

* * *

"England!"

A groan was heard throughout the room as England slowly woke up. He was having a splendid dream of owning his own resteraunt in Unicorn Land, and he was just about to feed Princess Pinky his award winning scones.

"What is it?" he drawled out, burying his head into his pillow. Stealla pouted and started to tug England's hair.

"Wake uuup! Angus is going to be here any minute!" she yelled, pulling his hair even more. There was no need to, because as soon as England heard 'Angus' he was up and out of bed scurrying around the house like a madman.

"Quick, Stella, Ellina, Uni! I need your help to hide everything that could possibly be broken!" he yelled, looking around his living room. He was surprised to find that the shelves were empty, not full of all the little figurines he always had. He turned to Stella and asked, "Uhh...Where are all my knick-knacks?"

"Not to worry England, Ellina and Flying Mint Bunny already did that while you were napping," Stella informed him proudly, puffing out her chest and putting her arms on her sides. Ellina flew in and rolled her eyes, "You say that like you did all the work."

Stella deflated a little and pouted, flitting over to sit on England's shoulder. England chuckled and pat her head. Then he remembered about the problem that would arrive any second now. He sighed, sitting on the couch before groaning.

"I wonder how much my insurance would cover...Why did Angus have to live with _me?_ Eireen would probably welcome him more...Stupid brother..."

"Is something the matter, Master?" America asked from the doorway. England looked up, at America before groaning out, "My older brother Angus is coming to stay with us for a while. I apologize in advance for anything that happens. He is quite...how to put this nicely...Well unlike my gentlemanly manners, Angus is a brute. I suggest you try to come into as little contact with him as possible, alright?" America nodded. Just then the doorbell rang and England groaned again. America started to walk towards the door to answer it but England stopped him saying, "No, that must be Angus. I'll get it."

Sighing and preparing himself for the headache that was sure to come, he heaved himself off the couch and trudged towards the door which sounded like was about to be kicked down any second.

"OI WANKER, IF YOU BREAK MY DOOR I SWEAR BY BUSBY I WILL MAKE YOUR STAY HERE BLOODY MISERABLE," England yelled, grabbing the door knob and swinging the door open. Unfortunately for him, he was greeted with a kick in the shin.

"ARGH! BLOODY─" he bit his lip before anything profane could escape them. He fell on the floor, gripping his shin and letting out muffled sounds of pain. Angus looked down at his little brother, before bursting out laughing.

"Oh deartháir, ye looked ridiculous! 'Tis be nothing! Why, I remember we could kick your shins eleven times back then, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. Has movin out of the house turned ye soft?" he asked between laughs. England glared up at him and shouted, "WHAT THE BLODDY BUSBY WAS THAT FOR, WANKER?"

"There we go, now I've got a little bit o' my dear old deartháir back!" Angus said, lifting up his little brother and holding him in a headlock, ruffling up his hair. America looked out from the living room, observing what was happening. He took a moment to look up what this...'Angus' person was doing. After a few minutes, he found out it was called a 'noogie' and decided it did not seem at all pleasent. Now he took his time to see what his Master's guest looked like.

'_His hair seems to be just like Masters, except they're red. Eyebrows are large, but slightly less so than Master's. Sounds Scottish..._'

He kept looking before he decided that Angus ws not somebody he would want to meet. Hurrying back upstairs, he went into his room and fell onto his bed. Looking over at his clock he saw that it was around dinnertime.

"I should have gotten some food..." he murmered. Sighing, he looked up at his ceiling. Maybe he could go into screensaver mode to save some energy...

* * *

"So tell me, where do ye keep all your alcohol?" Angus asked, flicking through the channals on England's T.V. He put his feet up on the little coffee table and England cringed.

"Can you _please_ take those filthy feet of yours off my coffee table," England said before kicking them off. Angus scoffed before rolling his eyes and putting them back up. England's eye twitched, but he decided he might as well just leave it be. '_Stupid bloody git sodding wanker I swear I will strangle you one day with one of those idiotic kilts of yours..._' he thought darkly.

"Oi, deartháir! I asked ye a question ye know!" Angus said, bringing England out of his fantasies of murder. Sighing, England said, "Alcohol cabinet of course, but you can't have any. esides, it's too early right now, it's barely seven." He heard Angus gasp before shouting out, "Barely seven? Why, don't say such cruel words, deartháir! It's two hours past Happy Time and you say it's _too early for drinks?_ Why, the old Ar─"

"_Angus..._"

"Tch. The old _England_ would never pass up Rum or Ale or..or..or beer!" Angus grunted, turning back to the T.V. England sighed and responded saying, "That's because I'm a _gentleman_ now, and most certainly not a brute like yourself."

"I say yer just scared that I'll beat ye at a drinking contest. Dearháir, ye could _never_ beat me OR Eireen! We always drink ye under the table!" Angus taunted. England felt his face heat up in anger.

'_No, you have to keep yourself composed. Angus is trying trying to get you to serve him some drinks...You are agentleman, you will _not_ fall for any of his taun_─'

"Come to think of it, that old boyfriend of yers could easily out drink ye..." Angus said to himself, placing a finger on his chin and thinking. England felt a vein pop and yelled, "ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. ANGUS, I SWEAR BY OUR VERY DEAR ATHAIR I WILL BE THE ONE DRINKING _YOU_ UNDER THE TABLE."

Angus smirked before saying, "Good luck, deartháir."

* * *

**why i put the A/N down here dun ask.**

**...**

**ANYWAYS~! :D **

**To apologize fer my not updating since forever, Ima update every day up to next saturday :D**

**Yew guys love that er love it~? :D**

**Anyways, sorry fer such a short chapter. ;w;**

**it barely clears my 1k+ words standard ;w;**

**OH N I LEFT YEW GUYS AT A CLIFFY~**

**CUZ M'AWESOME LIKE THAT~!**

**HAHAH─****

**...**

**Well anyways :D Yep, Angus is Scotland n Eireen is Ireland. N stuff.**

**Once again nu France, but he gunna come it :D**

**dun worry.**

**he will come in soon :D**

**anyways, R&R and I will love yew ferever n ever. :33**

**...**

**N Meri will give yew a hug.**

**BTW.**

**I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WIFF SPELLCHECKER, BUT EITHER EVERYTHING IN HERE IS SPELLED RIGHT ER IT AINT WORKIN. ;W;**

**SO YEAH, THIS IS UNBEATAD.**

**I'LL FIX IT LATER.**

**...**

**MAYBE.**

**Disclaimer: IDUN OWN THIS N I NEVER WILL~~**


	17. Remember What Happened Last Time?

**Don't own Hetalia. I'll fix any errors/spelling later. Also give yew explanation why few days late later *hurries and finishes the other parts while doing homework at the same time***

* * *

"Ready?"

"Stop stalling, deartháir, and just get on with it!"

"Shut up, Angus! Anyroads...Go!"

Angus's hand shot forward, grabbing the nearest bottle of rum before chugging it down. England copied his actions, except grabbing gin instead. They chugged it down throwing the empty bottles away and picking up a new bottle.

"Bloody...Wankah...You're drinking all the...Rum!" England yelled, grabbing a bottle of rum from Angus's hands and drinking it all before he could snatch it back.

"Stop drinking the...beer and ale!" he retorted. They glared at each other, tjem resumed with their contest. Soon enough, the entire sitting room smelled of liquor and the brothers slowly started to slip into intoxication.

"I cannot believe that language pack you downloaded didn't have the basics," He said.

America stared at him. He never told his name, so he had to refer to Him as 'He' and 'You'. It was getting very unconvienient...

"Oi, Mon cher, are you listening?"

America turned to look at the other blonde. "What's your name?" America asked. He looked surprised, but he smiled and said, "Perfect timing. Lesson one: Je m'appelle et tu t'appelles. Ready?"

America nodded, although he had no idea what he was ready for.

"Alright. To ask for my name you say: 'Tu t'appelles comment?' Then I'll answer you."

"Okay, uhm...'Too teh ahpehll c-commeh...?'" America asked. He cringed, but said, "Very good...your pronunciation needs a little work but you deserve an answer nonetheless. Ahem...Je m'appelle Francis. Ça va?"

America nodded . He finally knew that mysterious man's name. That helped ease his worries a bit. Now...

"So, Francis," America started.

"Hmmm?"

"How are you in my head?" he asked. Along with the name, that was another question that was eating away at his mind. At this, Francis chuckled.

"I could tell you, but you may not like the answer," he replied. America insisted and Francis said, "Alright, alright. The reason why I'm inside your mind is because..."

Francis's mouth moved but all that came out was a garbled mess. America's eyebrows furrowed and he strained his ears to hear, but couldn't hear anything. It all just sounded like white noise.

"Hey francis, could you repeat that?" he asked. Francis shook his head still smiling, then tapped his wrist.

"'Time to wake up,'" he mouthed. The static got even louder. It continued to crescendo until it was louder than even his own thoughts. Abruptly, his eyes flew open and he was out of screensaver mode. There was a light pitter-patter coming from his window. He got up to look outside.

"It's raining..." he mumbled. The world outside was dark and gray. He touched his window. Cold.

That vague saddness he'd been feeling flared up, and he could feel tears pricking his eyes. Why? Why was he sad? If anything, shouldn't he be more...more...more scared? So what if his Master treated him nicely ever since that oneday he took him out for a picnic in the park? He clung onto him much like that other night. Even when he awoke he...

America thought back to the day he saw the wedding. People did nice things because they loved each other, right? Then they get married, have kids and start a family. And...that night his Master said he loved him so it must be the reason why he was being nice. His Master was just going to do it again. He just knew it! ..But...but then why was he made? Surely his Master wouldn't have made him for that sort of thing. He gave him food and clothing─ he could have just run off batteries and have been naked if that's all his Master wanted. ..Then again...maybe even if that's not what his Master had _intended_, that's where he could be heading...

"Maybe...Maybe I should run away..." America thought outloud. Unknown to him, Stella and Ellina were there the entire time, even using their magic seashell to listen to America's conversation.

"No, no! This is bad! Stella, we should tell England everything right away! I know we said we wouldn't tell him but─" Ellina was cut off by Stella's frantic headshaking.

"We can't! Angus is in there with him! Remember last time he saw us!" she yelled, panicked. Ellina flinched. Oh yes...she remembered...

* * *

_ "I am so glad to finally have you two leave," Arthur said, practically pushing Angus and Eireen out the door. Stella and Ellina watched from behind a potted plant, their curiosity getting the better of them. Arthur forbade them from revealing themselves to his brother. He had said something like 'They may be able to see you, so who knows what they might do.'_

_ Once Arthur's brothers had gone out the door, they flitted out of their hiding place and circled around him._

_ "Hey Arthur, why did they come visit?" Stella asked, sitting on his shoulder and tilting her head. He let out a groam and said, "My father probably got sick of them and dropped them off at my house...Eireen should hurry and buy that one house he's been eyeing so Angus can bunk there."_

_ The phone rang and Arthur went to the kitchen to pick it up._

_ "Hello, Arthur Kirkland he─ Oh, why hello, Love..."_

_ The two pixies rolled their eyes and giggled. Lovely, his boyfriend had called. Arthur won't be moving from that spot for another hour or two─ unless they skip the lovey-dovey talk and quickly decided where tonight's events would be help. It seemed like today's phone call would be the latter, for Arthur came out of the kitchen not long after._

_ "Listen, I have to go meet Francis at his house. I don't know what time I'll be back, so don't forget to lock the doors," he explained, grabbing his keys off the counter and shrugging on his coat. The two picies nodded, smiles on their faces. Arthur smiled back, then headed out the door. About half an hour since Arthur left, Stella heard voices coming from outside._

_ "I can't believe ye made me drive all the way back just to grab yer kilt," the muffled voice of an annoyed Eireen said._

_ "Our seanathair gave me that kilt! I ain't gunna leave it at little Artie's house! Who knows what his leannán might use that for when they stay at Arthur's!" Angus protested, going right up to the door. He bent over and moved the Welcome Matt, taking the spare key and unlocking the door. _

_ Stella's eyes widened and she said, "Hey Ellina, I think we should hide..." Ellina turned to look at her and asked, "Why?"_

_ Before Stella could answer the door swung open and Angus stepped inside. Before he could even make it three steps in though, he spotted the two faires and froze. This caused Eireen to bump into him. _

_ "Oi oi, what's the matter, Angus? What made ye stop? Don't tell me they're already on the cou..." Eireen trailed off. His eyes stared at the same thing that Angus was staring at. After a few moments, Eireen blinked many times and rubbed his eyes. Turning to his brother he said, "Oi Angus..."_

_ "Yeh?"_

_ "Are those...are those faeries...?"_

_ "Yeh..I do believe they are..."_

_ "We're not drunk are we...?"_

_ "No...No we drank all the liquor yesterday. We're definately sober."_

_ "Then─"_

_ "Uhm, I'm sorry to interrupt but...We should just get going..." Stella said, flitting behind Ellina and pushing her up towards England's room. The two men just stood at the doorway, eyes trailing after the fairies. Even when they disappeared around a corner, they stayed frozen at their spot. _

_ That peace only lasted a few more seconds, because then the two were in a frenzied mess._

_ "HOW CAN DEARTHÁIR HAVE FAE IN HIS HOME? DIDN'T HE LEARN FROM DAIDI THAT THEY'RE EVIL?" Angus shouted, quickly reaching into his pockets and taking out a pocket watch made of pure iron. Eireen mimicked his actions, but took out a lead necklace that his mother gave him. They quickly chased after the poor little fairies, 'weapons' in their hands._

_ "TAKE THIS, EVIL FAE."_

_ "ARTHUR BETTER BE GRATEFUL WHEN HE RETURNS."_

_ "ARGH, I ALMOST GOT IT!"_

_ "STELLA!"_

_ "HMM?"_

_ "ARTHUR'S BROTHERS ARE SCAAAAARYYYYYYYYYYY!"_

* * *

Ellina shuddered at the memory. When England had returned, he was furious to see all his belongings had been wrecked. He was so furious, she couldn't decide what was scarier─ nearly dying, or England's rage. Shaking her head she thought that it _was_ best if they stay away from Angus.

"So then what are we going to do? We can't just let England live through another heartbreak! The last one was bad enough!" Ellina shouted. Stella shook her head mumbling, "I don't know...maybe we could wait a while and─Eek!" She barely managed to dodge America's hand as he walked across his room. Panicking, the two fairies started to rush after him, trying to think of anything that may stop him from running away. However, they froze dead in their tracks when a mighty roar emitted from his stomach.

"I wonder if there may be any food in the refridgerator.." America murmered, rubbing his stomach. The two fairies sighed in relief. Good, he wasn't running away, he was just getting some food...

"That scared me," Stella said, swiping her hand across her forehead. Ellina nodded, before glancing at the clock and gasping.

"Oh! we're going to be late! We promised Flying Mint Bunny and Uni that we'd go around town with them!" she said, hurrying out the door and across the hall. Stella gasped as well and quickly followed after her. They all met in England's room and quickly hurried out through the window (to avoid running into Angus), onto the yard, and into town.

America on the other hand entered the living room to get to the kitchen. Immediately upon entry, his nose was assulted with the disgusting scent of alcohol, and his ears were filled with drunken singing and laughter

"Oi, Arthhhland. Who be that boi. He yerrr rooomate er sumthin?"


	18. C'mon Love, Don't Be Afraid

**/Special A/N: argh, sorry guys, been bombarded wiff homework and the like. And I've been meaning to say things fer a few chapters but haven't gotten a chance:**

**1: I've strayed away from the summary just a tiny bit. Instead of turning into an alcoholic, England jus scarres America during the times he's drunk, which is only twice.**

**2: Waaaay back in Chapter 7, there was a sentence that said "_ Tears. Sobs. Wails. Screams. Moans. Begs. _" I just wanted to say the 'Begs' were for him to stop, not to continue. Jus hoped I'd clear that up. /**

**ALRIGHTY. SO YEAH. ABOUT REVIEWS, M'SORRY BUT I CAN'T POSSIBLY PUT THEM ALL ON THIS CHAPTER, BUT I WILL PUT THIS CHAPTER'S REVIEWS IN THE NEXT.**

**M'SORRY FER NOT UPDATING SO REGULARLY. I'M TRYIN MAH BEST ;W; I RLY AM ;W;**

**Disclaimer: i don't own Hetalia and if I ever did It'd be a beautiful piece of Late updates.**

* * *

"Oi, Ahhhhrthland. Who be that boi. He yerr rooomate er sumthin?" Angus slurred out. At that England barked out a laugh.

"If anything he'sh more like a shervant," he responded, "Nothing more than a hunk of metal I pieshed together one day." Angus joined in with England's laughter. The two drunks thought that was the funniest thing they have ever heard, but America on the other hand was deeply hurt. '_Is this what Master thinks of me? Nothing more than a hunk of metal that he could dismantle at any minute? I...I thought─' _

America quickly shook his head. Now was not the time to dwindle on those thoughts, there were more pressing thing that he had to think about. Like how his Master was so obviously drunk at the moment. Flashbacks started to invade his mind and he quickly felt fear start to fill his entire being. Sweat started to accumulate on his forehead and palms. Quickly, while they were still laughing, he nearly shouted, "I-I'm just going to go get food! P-Please just continue with your little party!" He hurried towards the kictehn door, but right as he was about to enter, England called out, "Why don't chu shtay h'ere wiff ush, America?"

America gulped, hesitating a bit, befoe proceeding to enter the kitchen and possibly be able to avoid another time. However, he was stopped by a cold voice.

"That's an order."

Reluctantly, he turned around and fearfully looked at his Ma the _thing_ that had taken over his Master. The smile on his face did not sit well with him, not at all.

"Dearesht trash, Angus wash tellin meh abou 'ow cute yew were. Sheems like he's taken quite a likin to ye. Told 'im ta back off." Angus snorted and then said, "Nd hy not? Ish not like 'e's yer lover er anythin o' th' sort. Don't see any reason why I can't 'ave 'im." He glares at Angus, but then turned aroudn too look at America with lust filled eyes. His smile turned into an absolutely predatory smirk as he looked him over. Suddenly, his eyes brightened as he hatched an idea in his alcohol-hazed brain.

"Ash a matter 'o fact," he said," he ish. America der ish mah new loverboy. We've already done it, sho nobody else ish allowed to 'ave 'im." England looked oh so smug and he was very satisfied with the grunt of displeasure that had been made by Angus once he told him that.

"I dun believe ye," Angus said through narrowed eyes. England's smirk grew. "Oh really now? Well then...I guessh I'll jush hafta show ye." He turned towards America, and the poor boy felt a jolt of cold terror go through him. Slowly, he started to back away, eyes wide and hands shaking, but England just advanced more. America's instincts started to kick in, and he darted through the nearest door he could find. England followed him, and Angus just sat on the couch chuckling and murmuring to himself.

"'Till 'e's worn ou'...'til 'e's worn ou'..."

* * *

America darted up the stairs. He needed to get to his room and hide, or maybe he should lock himself in the bathroom... england was hot on his heels, surprisingly steady although completely wasted.

"C'mere America, I promish I wun bite...hard," he cooed. America payed him no mind, instead focusing on trying to remember which door was his room or which one was the bathroom. He was just about to cry in fear when he spotted the bathroom, and he started to run faster. there was a screech and something attacked his face. America cried out in pain and stumbled, landing right in front of the bathroom door. He tried to get up but was pinned down by England. Something was still attacking his face, but England wouldn't have that.

"Shtoopid feline! Dun mar mah toy's face! I wash gunna do that!" he yelled. The large cat hissed, before swatting at his hands and escaping around a corner.

'_The nerve!_'(1)

America was so busy holding his scarcthed up face that he didn't notice being picked up by the back of his shirt until he smelled the alcohol coming from England's breath.

"C'mon Love, don't be afraid. I promish it wun hurt a bit..." he whispered. America shook his head, struggling to get out of his Master's grip. He soon found out though, he more he struggled the weaker he got. He realized that he still hadn't eaten and therfore hadn't gained any energy, and all this struggling was just making him lose even more. Now he was faced with a terrifying decision: Keep struggling and drain the rest of his strength so that England could easily overpower him in hopes of getting free before that, or just stop struggling and save his energy? Although the second option sounded nicer to his low battery, he couldn't have that. he knew he wouldn't be able to go through something like that ever again. So he continued to struggle.

"Argh, shtop that bloody fidgetin, America, yer such a hassle ta drag ye know?" England yelled, roughly jerking him up by his collar. America coughed, but continued to struggle nonetheless. England growled, then started continue to drag him towards his room. ...Wait...since when has England been dragging him? Fear coursed through America again and he struggled even more, but sadly it wasn't enough. He felt himself being thrown into a room and heard a door close behind him. He tried getting up but discovered that he had already exhausted himself.

"Come now, Love. Let'sh show Angus 'ow much we love each other, hmm?"

He no longer had a choice in the matter.

* * *

Angus sat on the couch, taking a swig from the last bottle of beer, seemingly unnaffected from the shouts above him. One particularly heart-wrenching scream _did_ however make him scrunch up his face in disgust.

"After all those years o' bein treated like that, n 'e takes it ou' on th' poor lad...Callin it 'love', bloody idiot..." he spat out. After another one of those wretched scream, Angus couldn't handle it anymore. Slamming the bottle onto the table with enough force to shatter it, he stormed upstairs, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. He stomped up to arthurs door and kicked it open.

"AHRTHAR. I DUN BLOODY CARE ABOU' YER ROOMMATE ANYMO'. STOP TRYIN TA PROVE YER BEIN LOVAHS WHEN YE REALLY JUS TAKIN IT OU' ON 'IM," he commanded. His outburst scared England enough to fall off the bed. He hurried over to the bed, picking up the poor American and taking him to where he thought was his room. After that he walked back to where England was and slammed the door shut.

* * *

America layed there, blankly staring up at the ceiling.

It had happened again.

Only worse.

He tilted his head to the side, staring across the hallway to his Master's closed door. There was some shouting going on, mostly coming from that Angus person. America tried to understand what they were saying and though their voices were muffled by the wooden door he could tell that he arguement was getting violent. It seemed like that Angus was furious about something. Maybe he wanted America to himself...but then why did he leave instead of taking his oppurtunity?

The arguement sounded like it took a sudden turn, and America heard a few crashes. America quickly realized that they were now fighting, and using whatever was left of his strength, he got up and put on whatever clothes he had.

'_Although...Master did this to me that's still...no reason why I shuold let this fight...happen..._' he thought.(2)

Although it took a lot of effot and willpower, he managed to make it to his Master's room. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with two men throwing punches at each other. He tried to find his voice so that he could yell something like 'Stop!', but his power supply was so low, he didn't think he could even manage to keep his eyes open anymore. He tried to take another step but collapsed on the ground. He went unnoticed by the two, as they were completely absorbed in their brawl. Finally, when America's power supply had reached a dangerous low, he automatically went on standby.

The last thing he remembered was the worried meowing from Iggy and a small trail of glitter zipping past him.

* * *

**(1) That's Alfie's thoughts by the way~ :D**

**(2) Yep. That's the HC complex in action right der.**

**OKEY.**

**FINALLY**

**A GIANT HURDLE IS OVER WITH AND DONE.**

**That's the only other time that will happen. I swear, I can't bring myself to write anything more like that ;w;. Originally, I was going to have Angus be the bad guy, but he ended up like the gewd guy. Go figure.**

**So yeah, I'll try to have the next chapter out by next Saturday at the latest, but I won't promise anything. It seems when it comes to updating I can't ever promise anything ;w;**

**P.S: Completely unbeta-d.**

**P.P.S: I fail at typing drunk talk.**


	19. Intermission: Ketchup and Marmite

Alfred glared at his computer screen. He glared at it with so much intensity that if his eyes could shoot lasers, there wouldn't _be_ a computer screen.

"What's the matter?" Arthur asked his companion. The American didn't look up from the screen but still responded.

"This one athouress...she hasn't updated her fanfiction in a while...And then she has the NERVE to get writer's block!" he yelled, slamming on his keyboard and getting ready to post a long and detailed complaint on her account. Arthur scoffed and flicked Alfred's forehead, "Don't get so worked up about it, git. She got writer's block, there's not much you can do about that. It's not like her story is very interesting anyway. What's it about?"

"Pft. Of you would find it uninteresting, you can't work a computer to save your life. Basically, it's about this 'England' fellow who built a robot he named 'America'. A lotta stuff happens and he ends up falling in love with his robot, but because of his horrible drinking habits he abuses him and...well...He does something that he would never be able to forgive himself for if he knew that he did what he did. But yeah, he does it again while his brother Angus─"

"Hold on, Alfred, _my_ Brother's name is Angus!"

"Coincidence then? Anyways, England's brother, Angus, is over and stuff. He saves America and starts to fight with England. She left off right when America passes out! What kind of an authoress leaves us with a cliffhanger like thaaaat!" Alfred whined, slumping down in his chair and flailing about. Arthur rolled his eyes and said, "Sit up straight, Alfred. your going to hurt your back."

"'Sit up straight Alfred your going to hurt you back and you better listen to me or I'll feed you my poison scones!'" Alfred muttered under his breath

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Arthur said, a fake smile on his face. Alfred quickly shook his head 'no' and said, "I-I was just thinking aloud!"

"About what? My 'Poison scones?'"

"N-NO! THE...UHM...CATS. YEAH, THE CATS ALFIE AND IGGY."

"Alfred, our cats aren't names 'Alfie and Iggy', they're names are Ketchup and Marm─"

"No! The ones in the story. The Iggy cat guy is weird, he's like...a pirate," Alfred explained, reaching for his mouse and going back to the girl's . Grumbling, he left his complaint and said that 'If she didn't update soon he was going to have his totally awesome Wizard boyfriend dude cast a curse on her.'

"You can't type that!" Arthur repriminded.

"Too late."

Arthur sighed in exasperation and grabbed Alfred by the ear, "No more computer for you."

"Awww! But Artieee!"

"NO BUTS, YOU CAN'T JUST GO THREATENING POEPLE WILLY-NILLY!"

"But I had a legit reason!"

"Too bad, go take Ketchup for a walk, he's getting a little chubby!"

"MREOW? QAQ"

Arthur carefully tip-toed into the guest bathroom, as to not wake up his sleeping lover. He closed the door and opened up the laptop, which was still at the page Alfred had left it on.

"Time to see what this git is so hyped up about..."

After spending five minutes trying to figure out how to navigate the thing, Arthur finally got to the first chapter and started to read.

...

An hour and a half later, Arthur was keyboard smashing random letters onto the most recent chapter while repeating "UPDATE NOW OR I SWEAR I WILL LISTEN TO MY GIT OF A BOYFRIEND AND CURSE YOU!"

* * *

**Sorry, It's not a real chapter ;w; B-But I'd feel so horrible if I just left you guys with nothing after so long! ;A;**

**M'still workin on howta get over this writer's block, and I'll be submitting a new USUK fic soon ;w;**  
**It's gunna be a Pokétalia AU with Gijinkas...yup.**

**Anyways, yeah, this is kinda like Real Life Arthur and Alfred n stuff...yeah xD;;**

**Disclaimer: IDUN OWN THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE ;W;**


	20. Omake Thing: Why Do I Have Nightlights?

**I'm not dead.**

**Let's have dinner.**

**Disclaimer: Dun't own, don't ask.**

* * *

...

"America, just what are you doing?"

England stood at the entrance of the living room, soaking wet with an armful of groceries. It had started raining while he was at the store and as luck would have it, he did not bring his umbrella. He was extremely happy that he had taken his car that day.

"D-D-Def-f-fending m-m-mys-self..."

The drive home was rather uneventful, save for that lunatic who had nearly crashed into him. Bloody teenagers, thinking red means go.

"...I don't think taping various pots, pans and pillows would defend you from─What are you watching?"

He finally made it home in one piece, carrying the bags of groceries on his arms. Setting them down to grab his keys and unlock the door, then picking them back up again, he walked into his house, closing the door with his hip. As he walked towards his kitchen to put the things away, he had stumbled across a very strange, almost comical sight.

"W-W-Well yo-you s-s-see...I-I had st-stumbled acr-across th-th-this m-m-movie a-a-and..."

America was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, suited up in the most ridiculous armor and hiding his head under a couch cushion.

"And you get scared out of your wits..."

"..."

England did now know whether he should laugh, or melt at the cuteness of this new discovery.

* * *

He ended up glowering at the ceiling above.

It was two o'clock in the morning and America had just managed to go into his power-save mode moments before. Apparently, his sense of fear and panic had been activated during the movie and were sent into overdrive, stressing out the boy and rendering him unable to rest. After England had placed the groceries in the refridgerator and passed the living room telling America it was time for bed, the boy had run up behind him and demanded that England let him sleep in his bed for the night.

It seemed like a wonderful idea in the time.

As soon as the lights went off however, America was sent into a frenzy. England ended up having to dig through piles of boxes to find several night-lights (which he honestly had no idea why he kept; it wasn't as if he were a child anymore) to plug into each and every outlet in his room.

He might as well have left the sodding lights on.

To make matters worse, the rain had evolved into a horrible thunderstorm, causing America to scream each time lightning flashed. It took much coaxing on England's part to get him to stop trembling. After assuring him for literally the thousandth time that no creatures of the night were going to dismantle him and leave his parts in the rain to rust, Amrica finally managed to slip into his version of sleeping.

England sighed and rolled over to his side, back facing America. He closed his eyes and started to drift off, hoping to at least get a few hours of sleep. He was just slipping into dreamland when the thunderstorm decided to act like fireworks on the Fourth of July and provide them a grand finale, causing America to jerk out of the blessed mode and latch onto his Master.

England's eye twitched and he made a note to block every single channal on the telly that showed horror films.

* * *

**asdfghjkl;lkjhg chapter 16 is almost done. I swear.**

**I didn't abandon this ;u;**

**Enjoy some USUK fluff.**

**It'll be the last ya get fer a while...**

**/goes off to bed**


	21. Deal

**IT'S DONE.**

**ALL MY HARD WORK.**

**BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS.**

**INTO THIS CHAPTER.**

**REVIEWS:**

**REALLY GUYS. REALLY. GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH.**

**I AM SO HAPPY YOUR STILL READING THIS AND JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH**

**DISCLAIMER: WORKED HARD. YET. I. DON'T. EVEN. OWN. THIS.**

* * *

...-ow!

_Wake up.._

...-reow!

_C'mon...wake up!_

...MREOW!

_Wake up wake up wake u─ Gah!_

Sky blue eyes flew open as Mister Hero jerked up, flinging me off, before almost immediately letting out a grunt of pain and falling back down. He didn't move for a while, and I started to panic...only slightly I assure you. I grabbed the fish square that I had taken out of the container England (although I must agree that Alfie's nickname, Grumpy Brows, suits him quite nicely) had left out of the counter, and walked up to Mister Hero's face. Gently nudging the fish square towards his lips, I tried to make him eat it. He didn't respond, and my panic escalated, but then he groaned and weakly brought up a hand to push me away. Oh no, I was having none of that.

Raising one of my paws, I gently brought it down on his cheek, sinking my claws into his skin, just enough to break the skin. He let out a yelp, and I dropped the fish square into his mouth. He choked on it at first, but ended up swallowing it. Mister Hero groaned again, then blinked a few times before sitting up. He hissed as he did so, face scrunching up in pain.

"Argh..I should have stayed laying down on the bed...I never thought it was possible to ever feel this sore. Why am I sore in the fir─"

The color drained from Mister Hero's face and he started to shake. Before I could even offer him a comforting lick on the cheek he had bolted out of the bed, biting his lip to keep from making any sounds of discomfort. He practically ran over to a door, nearly ripping it out of its hinges before grabbing the first articles of clothing his hands came across and shoving his limbs into them. I tilted my head in confusion when I saw that he had put on a shirt strangely. Last time I had seen him wear it, I could have sworn that the picture was supposed to be on the same side his face was facing.

Once Mister Hero and pulled on his extra pair of paws (really, were humans' paws so sensitive that they would need _two_ extra pairs?), he clumsily ran towards the door, stumbling and falling against the wall. I jumped off the bed and went up to him. He paid me no mind as he pulled himself up, bursting through the door and running towards the kitchen. He seemed to have forgotten the bumpy hill that was in the middle of the house, and he ended up tumbling down them. He laid on the floor for a while, and I leaped down to go see if he was alright, but Mister Hero nearly kicked me and he jolted up.

"Bloody...Angus did you hear that?"

"No, stop being such a lass and toughen up. Serves you right to be so hung-over that you hear things."

"_And what is that supposed to mean?_"

He scrambled back up and ran into the kitchen, tearing open the refrigerator door, and grabbed the closest morsel of food he could find. He stuffed it in his mouth, then repeated the process a few more times. He grabbed a carton of milk and chugged it down, choking when more voices were heard from up stairs.

"What is making all that noise? No, Angus, let me go! I'm going to see what's wro─ ANGUS I SAID LET GO."

A door opened upstairs and somebody was running down the bumpy hill. Mister Hero punched his chest to stop choking, and made a mad dash for the front door. I followed him, but I was cut off when England stopped in front of me. He turned to see Mister Hero running down the hall and paused for a split second, before taking off after him.

"America? America where are you going?"

Mister Hero said nothing. He reached the front door and turned the handle. It wouldn't open for whatever reason (I suspected it had something to do with that small metallic "key" England had twisted inside of it after Angus had appeared) He turned to see England running towards him, and let out a cry that hurt my sensitive ears. He grabbed the handle again, and in his desperation he ripped the door off his hinges. Startled I let out a hiss, arching my back, tail bristling. I fled upstairs in case something else would be dislodged.

As I passed by the window on my way up the stairs, I saw a blond running down the sidewalk outside.

Hmm...I hope he doesn't slip.

* * *

England stood frozen at the door. His hungover mind was furiously trying to process what had just occurred.

_ There were noises from downstairs. He broke free from Angus and ran down. America sprinted for the door. England went after him and America ripped the door clean off its hinges, running down the soaked sidewalk._

Slowly, his brain fit all the pieces together and he ran into a heartbreaking realization.

America had run away.

He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, but he paid them no mind as he tried to understand everything that had happened within the mere span of a morning.

"Oi! What happened to the door?"

"Why?"

Angus paused before he asked, "Why what?"

England felt tears starting to form and he angrily yelled, "Why did America just...just up and run away?"

Angus pursed his lips, gazing at his younger brother pitifully. He grabbed England's shoulder with a sigh.

"I think there's sumthin' ye need ta know..."

* * *

It was strange walking by himself. Usually his master was directing him somewhere, or catering him around in a car...

America shook his head. No, he shouldn't think about him; he escaped and his master can't hurt him anymore...

"Spare change?"

America jumped and swerved to see a ragged man looking up at him from his seat against a building wall. He held out a grimy hand, the dirt sticking to him like a second skin. The man desperately needed to shave, and his cheeks were sunken in. He smelled of trash and America forced his hand to stay at his side and not reach up to cover his nose.

"Spare change for the homeless, sir?"

America slowly started to back away. He was never quite fond of strangers, and this man's appearance did not help in the slightest.

"I-I am very sorry b-but I must be going! I don't have any spare change on my p-person, I a-apologize. Goodbye!"

He scurried away, turning corner after corner and crossing the streets. He wanted to put as much space between himself and that man as possible. Once he felt his previous panic subside, it was quickly replaced by a new worry.

'_I'm on my own now...No money to sustain myself, no food to eat. Where am I going to seek shelter? Am I going to end up like that man? What if my battery runs out, what will become of me then? Would anybody notice me? What if Master finds me?_'

"_Ah, mon cher, you see to be in quite the predicament, non?_"

America tensed, then slowly relaxed when he realized it was Francis. Hearing a familiar voice calmed him, and with no regards to how people would look at him, he started to talk.

"I really do not want to end up like that homeless man, but I don't know where to go. I cannot just return to Master's house, what if it happens again? I can't just live on the streets, nor can I rent a hotel like other humans because I lack the necessary money! What am I going to do about my battery?"

Francis chuckled and America found himself grow irritated. Was his misery really that entertaining?

"_Oh non, mon cher, I am not laughing at your horrid luck. I am laughing because of this wonderful idea I had!_" he explained. America furrows his brows in confusion and asked what he meant.

"_Onhonhon, this is something I think we should discuss in person...I'll send you the location of chez moi~_"

Before he could ask why they had to speak in person, America felt something being uploaded into his database. Almost on their own accord, his legs started walking down the pavement.

* * *

America gazed up at the mansion. He had no idea that Francis was this wealthy...Although he should ave guessed so, seeing how richly he clothes himself whenever they spoke in his "dreams". His hair appeared to be well kept as well...

He walked down the cobblestone path leading up towards two elaborate double doors.

'_I wonder how he came across such wealth..._' was all America thought as he lifted the brass knocker. After a few knocks, the door opened with a flourish, revealing a smartly dressed Francis.

"Bonjour, mon cher Amérique~! Bienvenue a chez moi~. C'est belle, non? Mais...tu es plus belle!" he greeted, swooping down to grab America's hand and planting exaggerated kisses on each of his knuckles. America flinched, yanking his hand from Francis and holding it protectively at his side. The Frenchman seemed offended, but quickly smiled in understanding.

"Ah, I forgot. That Anglais brute and his drunken rampages. You poor, poor boy. Well, please, please, come inside. Make yourself at home!" Francis moved aside and America warily stepped in. While the outside of the mansion appeared grand, what was within its walls was even more so.

A crystal chandelier hung right above an ivory staircase, a rainbow of colors reflecting off every piece. There were painting hanging off the walls, depicting what appeared to be the Nightlife of Paris, France. Others showed lovers strolling through parks and quiet villages during the daytime.

"The sitting room is right this way."

America followed him, eyes drinking in the expensive vases and silk flowers. Francis led them to a cozy sitting room, albeit a bit intimidating one because, like the rest of the house, this room alone looked more expensive than the entirety of Master hou─No. Don't think about the house...

"Would you like some wine, champagne? Maybe de la tartine?" he offered. America shook his head, politely stating that he was not very hungry at the moment. Francis hummed, taking a seat on the couch and motioning for America to join him. He stiffly sat down, thinking that if he so much as sat the wrong way he would ruin such a comfortable couch.

Clearing his throat, America started, "You...Er...You're very...wealthy." Francis chuckled, looking around the room.

"This is nothing really, at least compared to those who have wealth back in Paris. ah, Paris, my hometown...Oh how I miss it dearly. Alas, I cannot return there. At the very least not for a while..." Francis stared at a painting hanging on the wall opposite to them, sad smiled fixed on his face. America felt a strange urge to try and protect the man, much like he had felt when he saw those two cats up in the tree or when that Angus was fighting with his Mas─

"Why can you not return if you love it there so much?" he asked, staying away from those dangerous thoughts. Francis just shook his head, turning to face America.

"Some things are best not questioned.. Also, you should stop speaking so formally, mon cher. It doesn't quite...suit your looks," he responded. America furrowed his eyebrows, confused, but Francis started speaking again before he could inquire why.

"Mon cher, do you remember how I told you I had a wonderful idea?" America nodded and Francis clapped his hands, obviously excited.

"Well, my idea was if you lived with me!"

America did not like the sound of that idea, not at all. He couldn't imagine living in a home where everything seemed so...breakable. Then again...it was free food and a free power supply...maybe free clothing as well. Who was he to turn down such an offer? It was either this or going to live on the streets; he shuddered at the thought of becoming like that one homeless.

"Would...Would I have to do anything? Cleaning the house or other such chores?" he asked. Francis shook his head, but America was still slightly wary. Nonetheless, he accepted the offer, causing Francis to break out into a wide grin.

"Merveilleux! I'll lead you to a guest room I'm sure you will love!" America followed the Frenchman as he led him back to the stairs and up to the second floor. Making a right, they walked a few ways before turning to face a big oak door. He turned just before opening it however.

"Ah, j'ai presque oublié! I will not tolerate having somebody in my house that cannot feel any sort of happiness or joy," Francis stated. America felt disappointment come crashing down on him in one enormous wave. Of course this was too easy...

"Therefore, I will give you every single emotion you are missing!"

"...What?"

Francis smiled. "Happiness, contentment, joy, excitement, fondness, love─ Nono, love isn't horrible, it's that brute that takes it and twists it in horrible ways. I'll explain how wonderful it is later," he quickly said once he saw panic fill America's face, "I will give you all of those emotions, mon cher...but on one condition."

The offer was extremely tempting, he had to admit. Thinking about just being able to smile because of joy and not just smile to mimic it, not feeling joy at all flared up this strange desire in America.

"What would that condition be?"

Francis gave America this strange smile that was something akin to a smirk, "That we become lovers of course!"

America did not like the sound of that. He did not like the sound of that at all, not one bit. Lovers entailed feeling love and love was something that America had bad experiences with. He was not eager to relive those experiences...but...

But maybe that was because it was his Master that felt it. Francis did say that love was a wonderful thing, and that his Master took it, twisting it into some sort of horrid abomination. Maybe...Maybe he just needed the all the emotions a real human had and the right partner...

"Deal."

* * *

**I must admit, FrUS is one of my guilty ships.**

**They're just so...I don't know but I love it. ;u;**

**Dun worry though, this is USUK and it's gunna _stay_ as USUK...or at least to back to it.**

**R&R, constructive crit greatly appreciated!**

**Have a beautiful day.**


	22. I Need You to Do Me a Favor

**Hey guys! I just got back from my trip to El Salvador and aaaaah it was a lot of fun.**

**I ended up working on chapters 17 and 18, so hopefully, _hopefully,_ _maybe_ chapter 18 won't take another month to upload. Although this chapter turned out a lot short that I had originally thought it came out.**

**...**

**And I wrote it in the wrong tense. Didn't realize I was writing in present tense until I was practically done with it. I'm really sorry about that, I might fix it...but considering my laziness...**

**Yeah.**

**By the way this chapter is kinda ladled with FrUS.**

**I'm sorry.**

**Not really.**

**Well I am if you hate the pairing.**

**Anyways I'm sorry for the delay here you go!**

**Disclaimer: I own Hetalia about as much as I own El Salvador.**

* * *

Ice cream is something he can get used to, America decides.

It's creamy and deliciously cold, perfect for a hot day. There's a lot of flavors too; today is Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough as opposed to yesterday's Rainbow Sherbert. America marvels at how different regular Vanilla and French Vanilla taste, and how yummy Rocky Road is. He needs to remember to ask Francis to buy more Pistaccio.

However, as of right now, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough is his favorite, if only because of the cookie dough.

Francis is watching the boy from his bedroom window. He must admit he's grown rather attached to the boy since his plan had pushed him to his doorstep. His smile is something that he feels brightens up his day. It pains him to have to manipulate America in such a way.

He watches as America finishes his ice cream and goes to rest in a hammock that Antonio had set up the other day while he was visiting with Gilbert. America had hit it off with them immediately, matching Antonio smile for smile. Even Gilbert had commented about the boy being "Almost as awesome as Me".

It's funny how, just a few weeks prior, America would have never been capable of any of this.

* * *

It's been about a month and a half since America recieved all of his emotions. He absolutely adores all of them.

Well, all of the new ones.

He sits at the table and waits patiently as Francis cooks him up some breakfast. The food here is incredable. If you asked America how this compared to his old arrangements, he would tell you that his current meal could easily trump every other one he has ever eaten back at..._that_ house.

As soon as he's done, Francis snaps and a maid comes in, picks up all of the dirty china and silverware, and proceeds to wash it in the sink.

* * *

He likes Francis.

The man cooks for him, he buys him nearly everything he wants (unfortunately that does not include hamburgers, much to America's dismay), he pays attention to him whenever America wishes him to, and he invites his friends over when he needs to leave the house so that America won't be alone. He even gave him all the emotions that _that_ _man _held back from him. Nearly six months of blissful happiness. Ever since that day, he's given Francis the title of his Master.

* * *

Although their relationship is set at "lovers", America feels as though that's not quite right. From his understanding (which was from extensive research on the internet), they do everything it is that lovers do. They hug, they hold hands. Francis kisses him, involving his tongue from time to time. Yet America does not _feel_ the way that he thinks he's supposed to.

At first, he was extremely uncomfortable with any sort of contact during those first few months, but after some gentle coaxing and constant, gentle pats on his arm he came around. After getting over the initial fear of their first kiss, America found that he could quite enjoy them, but something was off. He doesn't feel those warm fuzzies that he read about in the right place. They're...lower than he thinks they should be.

It wasn't just America either. He could see something in Francis's eyes whenever they kissed, or whenever he uttered out "I love you"s and "Je t'aime"s. There was something gaurded about them, like they were holding back a funny joke or a juicy secret.

Then again, America is still new at deciphering emotions, and love is something that is brand new to him. He disregards his doubts and settles his musings. He loves Francis. At least he thinks he does. Well, he should. Francis love him to, or so he believes. But that must be right, musn't it?

Afterall, Francis knows just how to make America scream.

* * *

It's been around a year. America is perfectly content living here in a mansion along with Francis and the employees. The food is delicious and the workers are very nice people. Any memories that America may have had before living here are as good as forgotten.

That is, until Francis says something America never thinks he would have said in...well, ever.

"Mon coeur, can you do me a favor?"

America nods and pauses the game he was playing, walks over to Francis is seated on the couch and plops down next to him.

"You know I'll say yeah, you're my Master after all and what sorta guy would I be if I didn't listen to Master's orders? Not to mention the whole 'You're my boyfriend' thing," he responds with a playful smile, which Francis returns.

"Ah, I will never tire of how relaxed your speech has become, mon cher." America rolls his eyes.

"Well, hanging out with Gilbert and not feeling sad all the time does that to you."

"Oui, Oui. Now, about that favor, I need you to pay notre ami a visit." America smiles and leans on Francis, "Gilbert or Antonio, when am I leaving and how long will I be gone?"

"Actually, neither of the two. You are going to visit your old friend, Arth-Ah silly me. I forgot, he goes by that ridiculous name now. Mon amour, you're going to go visit England."

Every single once of blood drains from America's face.

* * *

**As always R&R and constructive crit is always welcome!**


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